Potatoes, Tanks and KFC: Wonders of Modern Socialism

I was in Belarus.
It is not Russia and they also don’t speak Russian. In fact, they all understand it and it’s one of the two official languages.
The politics are not Russian. They are mostly just a relict from Soviet times that missed some important events in the world.
The food certainly isn’t anything like Russian one. Beside the Borschch that is served cold and with sour cucumbers… or the many potatoes… Blinis perhaps? The potato pancakes, the Draniki, are very untypical for Russia indeed.
The people aren’t Russian. Even though the culture is very similar, to a degree that locals can’t name 5 things that vary from their Eastern neighbour. There are some differences, which are similar to those from Ukraine, such as the national folk dresses – I’ve been told that the colours are different from the ones in Ukraine and/or Lithuania!
The history certainly must be something unlike the one from Russia. And, truly, the medieval times were marked by a direct cooperation with Lithuania and Poland. Until the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth struggled with its existence and Belarus was absorbed by Russians. When their former Northern ally demanded its freedom from Russia, Belarusians joined the movement of independence, but then failed at strengthening their own culture to a similar extent as the Baltic States.

Vytis, the knight on the cup, is also one of the two Lithuanian flag// The stork is the national bird of most Baltic States, including Belarus

Then it was absorbed into Soviet Union from which it’s barely escaped. Now the country is stuck in a silly limbo between capitalist influences from outside and an “authoritarian democracy” that takes care of a population of alcoholics (Belarus figures as number 1 on the statistics). Yet, the overconsumption of alcoholic beverages is hardly noticeable in Minsk where the streets are clean and no graffiti taints the walls. The only truly artsy place I’ve had the pleasure of seeing was the Oktyabrskaya street, where the entirety of the free-thinking and intellectual society lives. Many enormous paintings can be observed, while ordering some sort of drink in one of the many cafés in the area – Moby Dick Café being the one with the best music and service – or strolling down the road, all under the solemn gaze of Comrade Lenin.

 

 

The most interesting about the city Minsk, however, is this very limbo I mentioned earlier: The first thing I noticed upon my arrival in the city were the long and clean boulevards that all point to the historical and political centre of the city, whose sides were covered by McDonalds and KFC “restaurants”. A friend rightly observed that the basis on which the regime in all of its absurdities is constructed is deep-fried, unhealthy food from the USA.

 

 

What absurdities though?
Let’s take the newly-founded “Tank Day” (День Танкиста) for example. Once a year for the last 5 years or so, thanks to the most prominent crew of World of Tanks – not kidding, I’m not making this up – the celebration day was introduced and is traditionally held in the Victory Park. One could say that it is a perfect example of blunt military propaganda. Apart from the numerous craft beer stands and corn sellers, some sort of military circus was presented (with animals, i.e. extremely well-trained dogs). Then, if one continues further into the park one will eventually reach an island on the river that was renamed  “Partisan Island” for the special occasion. The backwardness of the industry, the politics and, to some extent, the society reaches its peak. The military presence and the possible threat which might result from it is ubiquitously felt all over the city, at all times. This not only manifests itself in the great number of young men (and few women) in uniforms everywhere, but also in the unbalanced men-to-women-ratio in Minsk.
On that island everything is about Partisans and resistance, as the name already suggests. Traditional partisan and Red Army songs are sung with great enthusiasm – toast to Товарищ Сталин! As one proceeds further along the river bed, one can listen to Partisan theatre pieces and the like. Lastly, it is apparently common practice to have your child photographed with Kalashnikov and helmet in front of soldiers dressed in WWII army fashion. Or just have them play around with real weapons; who knows when it come in handy to know how to assemble and dissemble a gun?
And as the happy family is leaving the beautifully decorated and staged park, why not buy the child a ballon filled with helium… in the shape of a tank? He’s behaved well. And with this little piece of souvenir he’ll certainly remember the experience in a positive light.
I frankly enjoyed this day way too much. The whole event was simply too preposterously ridiculous and the people’s reactions by no means critical, so that I couldn’t hold back a little giggle from time to time. Nothing similar would be possible in most Western countries and especially not in Berlin – after crossing a shitload many pro-vegan, meat-condemning chalk writings on the ground, I stand assured that the warmongering side of Germany has abated.

 

 

 

Some more information on my trip there – for those who actually care: After two weeks of summer school in Kaunas, Lithuania and a week of traveling in the other Baltic States, I had spent two additional weeks in Minsk in order to study the Russian language even harder. The most intensive, laborious and honestly most beneficial part was the hitchhiking trip back to European Union, as I was forced to speak only Russian for little over 6 hours with different people while discussing many different topics (one being the prices of Cocaine in Moscow, as the driver was working and celebrating there).
Some other posts on this trip might follow.

Lastly, many thanks to the usual candidates (i.e. the Royal Society for Putting Things on Top of Other Things), but foremost to our lovely teachers in Minsk, the greatly caring people that I’ve met from Belarus who welcomed my warmly and offered me a different perspective on politics and people’s mentality, the Red Army…? Is it still the Red One? At least, they didn’t wear no Soviet Emblems anymore Belarusian Army for not shooting me on grounds of espionage or whatever other reason they might have come up with and, of course, the (mostly) German group with which I arrived. Furthermore, the many drivers who offered me a ride all the way back to Berlin. Special thanks to Nino for hosting me and introducing me to Poznan. It’s a great city. Really. Trust me.

(Fun drinking game to play in Belarus: Every time you see someone in military uniform you need to drink a shot. Success guaranteed! If you play this on “Tank Day”, your liver is gonna explode in an ultimate cloud of alcohol and blood you need a strong constitution.)