What would YOU change about Georgia?

During the two short weeks of my stay in Georgia, Nata and I have asked this seemingly random question to people from all walks of life and age to gauge the discontent in the wonderful country of Saqartvelo. Except form the points Energy and City Planning (added by me) everything was solely based on Georgian citizens’ opinion and experience. I have collected them here in a short overview to give people a chance to see that they are not alone in their opinions. Change in a democracy can happen if people realise that they are not alone and that their representatives should fight for a brighter future for all.
Please note that I haven’t been able to touch upon subjects such as health, nationalism, economy, or political election campaigns. The list is not complete, and more people (maybe experts) would need be asked what they would want to change.

Education

Schools and educational institutions are in a dire strait. Their quality is horrible, children and adults are not educated well, they are poorly informed about their voice and power. This does not even touch upon trivial lessons like mathematics, science, or languages and the like. We refer purely to the political education. For a healthy democracy to establish itself and grow in power and reach, every citizen needs to be informed about what they can do, what their role is in a democracy and what the servants of the state (i.e. politicians) are supposed to do for the improvement of the country. Also, the education should aim at teaching people how to discuss instead of fighting each other.
Furthermore, teachers have very little respect for their pupils and themselves, for they do not know what their purpose is. If they truly wanted to push their pupils’ interests and knowledge, they would be impartial as to where pupils get their knowledge from – their role is not to be the only teachers, but to help guide the flow of knowledge and fact-check their pupils.
Pupils need more time in between classes to rest, eat and spend their energy instead of rushing from one classroom to another and being punished for not being able to go to the toilet and eat in a 5-minute break. Teachers don’t trust their pupils, believing they will “run off” or go home if allowed to play in the yard during breaks. This should be a huge warning sign to everyone working in the education sector.
Sexual and drug education are not being taught in schools in Georgia. Although these represent an important part of young people’s concerns and interests, education on harmful drugs (and use) as well as procreation and the dangers of unprotected sex are virtually being silenced by the state. Without proper education, the young society is at risk of become depended on drugs and may be exposed to an unnecessarily high risk of STDs and unwanted pregnancy (and, of course, unfulfilling marriage).
While the education is not used to address these problems, overwhelming propaganda campaigns are launched to discredit democratic institutions and create a split between social groups.

Political Institutions

Certain political institutions need to put in place to reduce the risk of abuse of power. They mustn’t be influenceable by political figures. Their role is to observe that all political procedures are respected, and, if there is an abuse, immediate reactions must follow, no matter the political orientation of the observer or he who has done the abuse. It is absolutely necessary to introduce them to the political field.
TV is not an institution and should never be used by one party only to promote their ideas and spread their propaganda, which is sometimes portrayed in a perverse utopian and disillusion way that touches upon the most basic of all human drives. Not only can a TV help awkward couples unwind and get down to action. It can also enlighten people of all creeds and nations to possible solution and inspiring skills and talents.

Power

Anyone who enters the field of politics in Georgia is going to change his or her comportment. They will no longer use public transportation and factually isolate themselves from the common people. The chief reason why people would choose the path of politics is not an altruistic wish to make Georgia a better place for everyone to live in, but purely a reason to establish themselves as powerful and wealthy people. Being in power comes with certain perks, such as modern car and driver, housing in healthy neighbourhoods, relations with business and economically strong players. To reduce the abuse of power, the attractiveness of a political position needs to be curbed.

Culture

Albeit having a Black Sea Arena might at first sight seem like a nifty thing to have, upon closer inspection it will become all too clear that this is simply a trick to cover the lack of political and financial support for culture. The tickets are often very expensive and out of reach for most Georgians, the Arena is barely used at all (5 concerts in 2023). While this Arena is used as a political propaganda flagship by the leading Georgian political party, Qartuli Otsneba, the voice of the opposition is being repressed and discontent continuously ridiculed. Small Georgian musicians and artists are not able to establish themselves nationally and internationally for lack of support, while millions are spent on bands that were famous 10 years ago. A shift in financial aids is imperative for a healthy cultural sphere and an artistic expression of people’s voices.

Employment

At the time of writing, working in Georgia can be both extremely challenging and disappointing for there are very few regulations to prevent abuse and exploitation of the working force by their respective employer. While this could be seen as beneficial for small businesses that would struggle from high spendings on human resources, uneducated and inexperienced workers will never develop an adequate spending power and will forever dwell in poverty. Introducing policies that would require every employer to fix contracts for their employees and guarantee them a minimum salary would be a first step towards a fair marketplace, a new burgeoning social class and a great economic boost.

Military

The Georgian military is reserved primarily for the less-fortunate, not educated and for those most prone to fall for nationalistic propaganda campaigns. Because of the poor mental state of the cadets, orders are not understood well. If the military was aiming at creating a strong defensive force it would have to train educated, able-bodied and able-minded people to be resourceful and efficient. It would, furthermore, need to equip their soldiers with modern weaponry instead of using used, rusty, and worn-out Soviet equipment. Finally, overall fitness of Georgians is questionable, and many would probably not be able to even the lowest requirements for the military service (should they be drafted). Having a healthy population is paramount to creating effective defensive capabilities. It would also serve as a deterrent against potential further Russian expansions.

Nature preservation

The preservation of the extraordinarily beautiful, diverse, and rich nature of Georgia is strictly limited to a few national parks such as Vashlovani or Borjomi. However, the greatest part of the Georgian society is only dimly aware of their environment if at all. In fact, the country is suffering under the weight of trash thrown into ditches next to roads, in rivers, in forests and everywhere imaginable. Though garbage collectors are working regularly and under pitiable conditions, only a fraction of trash is collected. Plastic bags roam the streets, cigarette stumps are ubiquitous. Grazing animals and stray dogs are eating them, and the trash returns to humans in another form. Recycling is but a word. No efforts have been taken to reduce garbage use or recycling. If the government does not address the problems as such, the country is going to be covered in trash, which will have serious effects on tourism and on Georgian citizens’ health. Campaigns that target people’s awareness of their own impact may come in handy.
Industry pollution is another issue. Emissions are being emitted without filters and enter the ecosphere from the air and the water. These are often toxic and have seriously detrimental effects on humans, plants, and animals alike. Standards need to be introduced to save lives.

Mobility & Transportation

Georgia has to transition away from a car-driven economy and transportation to more eco-friendly and efficient means. Living and traveling/commuting in Georgia means being exposed to constant dangers of life. While millions of cars drive at unreasonable speeds on tricky roads without any attention to street rules, pedestrians most often walk on the streets, thus exposing them to drunk drivers, mud, smog and other unpleasantries. Beside the two or three mediocre trains operating in Georgia, almost all transportation in car based. Constant traffic jams, high carbon emissions and a strong dependency on energy imports from Russia and Azerbaijan are the consequence – a consequence Georgian politicians don’t want to address. Stress and a higher mortality are also linked to the Georgian dream that is a stinky and polluting mobility. For the streets of Georgia to calm down and allow for a smoother mobility, steps must be taken. These include blocking roads to cars, allocating a strict parking policy that has every wrong-doer’s car removed, construction of park houses, allowing for safe spaces for pedestrians and cyclists, connecting public transportation hubs. A safe and clean mobility also requires high investments into trains and railways in general, including the metro in Tbilisi and possibly the creation of a tram along the river Mtqvari. The rights of pedestrians must be protected by the police. Ruthless behaviour by car drivers has to be stamped out, awareness about pedestrians have to be raised during driving lessons. Last but not least streets in Georgia need to be renovated and all potholes closed. This primarily concerns people from poorer towns and cities who also do not have the means to have a solid car insurance nor the means to repair their cars.
Precarious roads like the Rikoti Pass are suffering from closures more and more often. The Road and Street Department of the State (should it exist) must solidify the road and keep it clear of huge snow fall, erosion and other naturally occurring hazards.

City planning

Everyone who has ever stepped foot into Didi Dighomi will know what a faulty and inconsistent city planning looks like: chaotic, dirty, uncomfortable, and perilous. Drivers have to be very careful to even get there, as hour-long congestions and missing exists from the main road artery are a permanent concern. Once there, high buildings for a growing population are being built without any respect to the local geography, the population density, mental health, and circulation. As there are no metro stations and few bus lanes, most workers are forced to commute by car, hence taking up more space than they would need to. An acute lack of parking lots causes people to park anywhere they seem fit – no authority seems to pay attention to this. There are barely any, if any at all, pedestrian lanes (trottoirs), which makes moving through the newly built quarter capricious and deadly.
The absolute lack of pedestrian lanes in general in Georgia is a statement of disrespect towards the less wealthy, to those who like to stroll, and the youth, who are not allowed to drive. This is a huge issue all over Georgia and is not limited to the capital.
Seemingly no thought has gone into city construction or urban development in general. Buildings are built anywhere with little regard for the inhabitants. Houses are often not attached to existing sewage lines; they have no access to gas and electricity. Cities grow continuously and in an unrestrained manner. To curb tumorous towns, a virtual grid must be established which defines where and how can be built in certain locations. For this reason, town halls need to employ more people and digitalisation must step forward.
Cities should also employ water evacuation systems that allow for the surplus of rainwater and a safe passage of water into the rivers. Water purification plants also need to be built along the rivers of Georgia to preserve the hydro eco system and provide with fresh fish for locals.

Agriculture

Farmers are unable to sell their produce in Georgia, as competing producers from abroad produce cheaper than Georgian farmers (meat is being imported from Brazil, many vegetables come from Türkiye). Not only does this result in a massive rural evasion and an unhealthy inflow of uneducated country folk into urban areas (hence destabilising both cities and villages), but it also means that the general quality of produce drops immensely. Controls on the safety of imported produce may be lower than controls on locally grown produce made with Georgian standards.
Farmers should be incentivised to stay in their hometowns, earn more for their hard work and have safe spaces in the city where they can offer their produce to people. The difference in taste and colour tells a tale of difference in quality and Georgian citizen should listen to the story. After all, Georgians have suckled on beans grown in Georgia during the hardest time of their existence. What if this resource is suddenly not available anymore?

Energy

Energy-wise the country of Georgia depends chiefly on imports of natural gas, petroleum, and other fossil fuels from its autocratic neighbours. As we have seen the budget of the military powers of Azerbaijan and Russia rely on exports of fossil fuels. In order to reduce the risks of further escalations and loss of territory of Georgia, spendings on fossil fuels must drop significantly. Investments into clean energy is essential for a peaceful future. Becoming energy independent would signify a decrease in military projection of Georgia’s neighbours and an increase of the Georgian national budget, which is turn can be spend on their own defence capabilities.
80% of its electricity needs are covered thanks to their richness in water and the possibility to erect dams. However, due to climate change and uncontrolled grazing of cattle, as well as an inefficient heating of towns with wood, improper ways will sooner or later translate into the premature melting of glaciers and a drop in water availability. The switch to clean energies such as solar or wind power – both of which are widely available in Georgia – could result in many positive outcomes: energy sufficiency, cleaner power, reduced dependency on energy imports, democratisation through community-led solar power plants, boost of the local economy, and many more.

Orientation

East? West? Or rather North? Why not try South?
Georgian politics focus on providing its citizen with unrealistic, perverse, and utopic ideas of what the future of Georgia looks like, without offering actual relief for the poor and those in need. It also doesn’t boost business-minded people, as your success largely relies on contacts within the government or your political orientation.
Georgia has had their golden ages, and it seems like these days lay in the past and cannot be rekindled. Which is deceptive, as the past offers important figures like Queen Tamar or Davit the Builder who have pushed the kingdoms through innovation, calculated thinking, gender-equality, and breakdowns of corruption and nepotism.
Georgia does not need to look East or West and try to wedge itself somewhere between two equally disastrous powers, but rather find its own way, that suits its intentions and culture. Therefore, it is most important for Georgian citizen to remember what they strive for: A strong culture, a beautiful nature and hospitable people living in their homelands where they can preserve their way of living and being. I believe that by implementing the above-mentioned points and some more that I haven’t been able to research in the last 2 weeks, Georgia may soon find itself in a position of power, where its people can breathe clean air, stay the beautiful people that they have always been and decide in unity what the next course of action should be. Georgia can be a beacon of hope and democracy in a rapidly evolving world. The earlier people realise their potential, the sooner they can leave behind the weighty past and look forward again.

And don’t forget: Violence is not an opinion, nor is it a sign of democracy and understanding of different point of views. Violence used by the state is inherently wrong and is but a projection of politicians’ inability to tackle a problem in a civilised way.

A memorandum to Georgia

Please not that the following lines are highly personal and that they may or may not represent the whole truth. However, they do represent a truth, my truth. A truth that had partially been written during the onset of a bacterial illness and in the cold and dark month of February.

First of all, I believe a short introduction would be necessary. Some wider context is needed for you, the reader, to understand where I am and what is going on. After my frustrating months in Central Asia, may they be as instructive as they have been, I decided to head back to Georgia to visit my friends, following an emotional sickness, eat food without meat and possibly find a job here. I had taken matters into my own hand, had freed myself of most of my worldly possessions and had set my mind on trying something new for myself. It turned out to be more difficult than anticipated.

But let’s not dive too deep into these organizational matters, for they are quite boring and serve no greater purpose. It suffices to say that I moved to Kutaisi, following my intuition and the advice of a foreign friend who has settled here and seemingly adores the city. Right from the start I got in touch with a young local couple owning a teaching-center, start-up palace and who asked me straight-away if I wanted to give English lessons. I agreed. Two or three month passed without any greater evolution of my working and overall situation. I have a flat by myself, yet no one to share it with. I had the outlook for acquiring a teaching position with no fixed program, allowing me to freely teach as I see fit. I have some financial reserves and no immediate pressure to actively seek employment. I did watch a few extraordinary films, all-time classics and some that are advisable for all to watch. I read a few books.

Almost every book is based on violence. Luckily the English teaching one is peaceful.

View from my former flat.

The months passed. I witnessed the Georgian parliamentary elections. I saw the former president Mikhail Saakashvili return from his Ukrainian exile (just in time, I’d say). Misha returned and so did the snow in Rustavi. I experienced public transportation in Georgia. I followed Georgian news on the war in Ukraine. I observed the everyday Georgian life, the routine. I mused about the fascinatingly slowness at which everything and everybody moved, not taking into consideration the drunk drivers all over this country, who cannot wait to die in a tragic accident. And all the suicidal Glovo bikes who face the traffic jams of Tbilisi with a stern fanaticism, proudly carrying the banner of exploition into their glorious death. Banzai!

I remember Georgia from seven years ago, when I fresh came from high school into this promising Caucasian state that was still forgotten by most of the world. The overall infrastructure and life standards seemed to be increasing slowly but steadily. People were friendly, hospitable, exceedingly interested in meeting and talking to European strangers.

Of course, I am aware that my situation was an altogether different one. I may have had this veil of naivety, which shielded of a great number of uncomfortable truths, Well, it has been lifted. I see things clearly now. And I am bitterly disappointed.

I will satisfy myself with only one concrete example: politics. You think that politics are boring? Especially this dull process of going to the voting booth and give your voice to somebody? Fear not, in Georgia it pays off! Upon voting for the right party, the Qartuli Otsneba, in short Qotsi (note that this is awfully close to the German words “kotzen”, which means to throw up) you will receive 20 Lari and/or a sack of delicious potatoes. Yes, you may suffer from four years of hardship and an ever increasing slithering towards a pro-Russian dictatorship, but behold! you will eat well for one week.
These are the voters, who happily give their voice and receive something in return. Others, especially state workers, were forced to vote for the ruling party (in power since 2012) under the threat of losing their jobs.
Of course, in the end all of this pressure is hardly worth the effort, as the elections were rigged anyway and a majority of the people did vote for Qotsi, despite the obvious fact, that the leading politicians work on their own, personal agenda. It’s disappointing, that any reasonable being would vote for a political party that is so openly corruptible.

I realise that I sound harsh and unfair. However, it becomes clear to me that Georgia is moving away from being truly European. Not the individual people, certainly not my close friends here, who I adore more than anybody else, but the whole dirty edifice as a whole. The war in Ukraine (yes, it’s called a war, Putin, you sad, empty cunt!) is the famous drop that was one too many. It’s a disgusting display of sheer power whoring, of reckless lying and manipulating, coupled with a creeping hollowing of the free and concerned public opinion.
The valiant, empathetic Georgian people rose up and demanded their government for immediate support for the harassed, bleeding Ukrainian defenders. The political leadership answered unanimously – with silence. Well, okay, with a small outcry, condemning Russia’s move. But did any actions follow?
( a bit of a badly structured paragraph, I might rephrase it a later stage )

Slava Ukrainiy!

When I was on my 20-hours bus ride through Turkey, I had a lot of time to reflect on what lays ahead. When I first lived here I was in love and its magic made me oblivious to certain aspects of the unpleasant reality; where there was wonder, love and excitement, now sadness reigns. I have become anxious, fearing that I might be ran over by a drunk Georgian driver at any time. Or mistaken as a Russian and injured for this reason. I feel disillusioned. I had hugged Georgia and its mode-de-vie, but the embrace has been loosened and instead of the warm and affectionate feeling an awkward silence imposed itself. There’s a dwelling anger in my chest.
Therefore, it appears evident that my time here in this country comes to a close. I resolve to leave ere summer, with no mind to buying a return ticket.

Before closing this chapter I must, however, bring a small memory back to my mind. It was on my excursion to Tkibuli (ტყიბული) that I met some excellent Georgians in a restaurant. I join their drinking and feasting party. Despite the war in Russia and their ever-increasing hatred towards the Russian language, they conversed with me, therefore overcoming their unease, anger and sadness for the sake of communication: an altogether smart and wise approach. We enjoyed our reciprocal company. Upon hearing that I was going to leave Georgia one man asked me not to forget them.

That was all he demanded. To remember that scene. The true identity of one part of Georgia. A welcoming, warm, hospitable and out-goinf one. One that overcomes problems, personal and the ones that are a produce of society and the environment. And I am happy for this memory and for many, many more.

But I have made up my mind about leaving.

Off, I will go, into the west.

Georgia on my mind ✌

Some thoughts on Kyrgyzstan and a silly anecdote.

Krgyzstan is a true Kaputnik-State. Which means that it works, despite the fact that absolutely nothing is meant to function. You get the idea immediately within the first 5 minutes in the country: Grammatical errors in the official airport signs, no means of renting cars, an absence of busses and the likliness that your flight will be delayed, because a cow decided to nap on the runway. Just like they do on every other road.

Can you spot the mistake?

Maybe the latter is exaggerated. It is, however, very surprising that 30 years after declaring its independence and controling vast mineral ressources, Kyrgyzstan would still not be able to run a few buslines – or marshrutka (vans) throughout some part of the most central regions. The only train line that does exists, apparently runs only once every week!

Even this thing is able to conquer the mountain. Why not a bloody bus?

Every official state worker seems to be corruptible. Take a random street cop for example: instead of writing a fine for speeding for 500 som (around 5€), he gladly and woolfishly accepts 200 som that go straight into his own pockets. The higher the rank, the higher the bribes get.

Unsurprisingly, this treacherous nature that is so visibly displayed by the important people of Kyrgyzstan, is imitated by its other inhabitants. I have the impression that almost each and every (male) citizen will try to cheat you of your money. Deals that are agreed on, can easily be altered to the locals wishes, desires and, of course, to the tourists/travelers growing frustration.

At one point… something snaps within the tourists troubled, oxygen-deprived and most oftenly over-heated brain. And then the haggling starts. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Bargain for every cent/som as if your life depended on it. Do not trust any of the prices.

It so happened that, while staying in Osh for a few days, me and one of the 4 Israelian guys staying in the same hostel, went to buy some Coke. The prices on the markets were close to 60 som for 1.5 Liters (for warm and filthy Coke), whereas the one we found in a real shop was tagged at the dastard price of 80 som. So we haggled.

“80 som? That’s prosta outrageous! Never in my life have we found anything this inhumane and despicable. Have you seen the prices on the market, have you? This is already only barely acceptable, but 80… 80 som? I need this money to feed my poor, gray donkey a little bit of grass that he so deserves on his old days. He’s already limbing on his two hind legs, but he wants to go back to his mountain village to see his donkey wife and donkey children before the inevitable happens, yalla.”

We managed to push the prices by 5 som. Not great, not terrible. But when trying to pay, we ran into some serious issues: we did not have enough coins. We were going through our combined wallets and pockets and found only about 70 or so som. That, plus about 10.000 more, but only in big bills and we had already entered a stage of stingy deception that there was was no turning back. In the end, we got it our way and, though embarrassing as it was, we achieved a little discount.

On that day we truly understood some of the Kyrgyz mentality. All thanks to a completely rotten government.

The Isrealian desert rat that can eat an infinite amount of pasta.

Breathing in the air of Glasnost and other stories from within the Ural mountain range

The time after exams was marked with a concluding travel in the northern regions of Russia. Our wanderlust had long been waiting for the escape from university and academic responsibilities, as neither me nor Ludwig had had any break in studying for the last 8 or 9 months (not including shorter holidays like Christmas or the madness around 9th may). Despite the failure of our initial plans of renting a car and comfortably cruising through Ural mountains with the eager desire to visit outstanding Russian cities like Asbest or Nizhny Tagil, we embarked on a journey that would have us wonder at the other, brighter sides of Russia that I myself had only experienced to a minimal amount. If you are by now wondering why you have never heard head of these cities, don’t trouble your mind for it was the purest coincidence that let us to Nizhny Tagil – it was but a meme that I found on the Internet before coming to Russia.

Russia is that big of a country, that when it’s 10am in Moscow, everything is still 1994 in Nizhny Tagil.

Right after the disgraceful ending of our academic semester in Kazan, we met up with the other exchange students for a beer, then took the night train to Ekaterinburg where we had the great privilege of staying at a Russian friend’s place for our time there. Ekaterinburg… the city where we initially wanted to do our exchange; the city that surprised us as soon as we arrived; the city that had held us in awe as long as were there; a city full of pleasant surprises. In fact, the place often felt somewhat related to a Western city, as it offered a rather free choice to the inhabitant when it comes to overcoming usual social restrictions that were always sensible in Kazan.
It, furthermore, is considered the Ural capitol of Rock music. After long strolls through EKB we stumbled upon a park surrounding a pedestrian lane around a embedded rivulet. From there a small tunnel underneath a main road in the centre led to a greater basin of that same rivulet. The tunnel was insofar remarkable and astonishing as it was the so-called “Виктор Цой Туннель” (Viktor Tsoi Tunnel): all of the walls were covered in paintings and graffitis of the deceased, but still illustrious singer/song-writer that carries the nickname “the Last Soviet Hero”. In the middle of it always stands an Asian-looking singer (Asian, but not Indian… it was rather the East-Asian looking type), replaying greatest Tsoi hits, while exploiting his own appearance to earn large amounts of money.

Besides many other memorable places one building in particular struck us as unbelievable: right there, in the middle of a Russian city, stood a perfect example of an Armenian church in red bricks. A Barevzez to the priest paved the way for a guided tour through the church and over the premises. After a few explanations our surprise and disbelief vanished as effectively as Vampires when they see sunshine for the first time; the amount of Armenians living on Russian ground is significantly higher than the population of the originating country itself. After providing us with knowledge he recommended us to visit an Armenian restaurant in town – after the painful acclimatisation that was the almost tasteless and meat-heavy Russian kitchen,  every bite of indubitably authentic Armenian cuisine made my taste buds shiver from excitement.

Before you continue, you should look up some pictures of Nizhny Tagil (Нижний Тагил) and let the view have a first impression on you. This is what we did. And everyone with whom we talk to about our idea of seeing this lovely Soviet industrial horror was in turn looking at us with a face of a Teletubby. And, indeed, arriving in the city and seeing it with our own eyes confirmed all of our wildest imaginations. That is: Thick clouds of smokes escaping the many factories intestines, all indicating a different intensity of danger to the health; Soviet buildings all over the place; stray dogs roaming the roads; and drunk men squatting in the parks.
All in all a promising start!
Not even ten minutes after our arrival, a few drunkards saw us two strangers walking around with photo material and immediately insisted on posing for a portrait of them, that we immediately printed out for them (one exemplary I used as a postcard and it should already circulate somewhere in Europe).

Sitting in a Vienna-styled café and Pirogi restaurant, we checked the Internet for places to stay and eventually decided to book an Airbnb for little money close to the central city. However, there appeared to have been a misunderstanding between the unfortunate owner of the apartment and a money-grubbing office behind, that were not even aware, that the place was for rent online (one phone call had already cleared our path, whereas the following one undermined the slightest possibility of the existence of that same place). As the payment had already been completed, we insisted on moving into the flat for the time our stay, and eventually ended up sitting in the office with the employees waiting for their unpleasant boss to show up. About four hours, a couple of teas and the additional payment of another 1000roubles caused the temporary evacuation of the mistreated owner and her two children. Right after sundown he headed out again to further explore the city, despite the unlucky star it seamed to stand under. While moving around aimlessly, Ludwig and I stopped in a wonderful backyard to take in all of the architectural details and the invigorating harmony of buildings and nature. A car stopped. The driver and his wife noticed me and Ludwig taking pictures. A few words were exchanged. More inhabitants appeared out of thin air and joined us. And before long we found ourselves in a car on its way to a bar that is being provided with local beer – beer brewed by a Mexican guy who studied the magic of brewery in Berlin! A beer that was truly excellent in taste and design of the bottles. I can only heartily recommend any friend of the hop brew to pilgrimage to Nizhny Tagil and support the local brewing art!

A great beer! Really! Trust me! Mexicans can create amazing beer – legally!

Random people desperately trying to understand what we were doing in their city

The initial idea of our trip to Nizhny Tagil was, however, a completely different one: we wanted pictures, pictures of industry! Of the raw, polluting power of the purest of all Russian factories. In fact, we wanted to capture the whole scale of monstrosities that is the patriotic Russian tank industry (Tagil is fond over its tanks. The local souvenir industry is making a large split between showing the beauty of Tagil and, on the other hand, showing the full potential of its factory output).
Little did we know that on the next day the city was engulfed with genuine patriotic sentiments over a marine battle that was won by Imperial Russia over a 100 years ago. As the only logical result, by midday all the men in the city had already consumed a dangerous amount of alcoholic beverages and strayed around the city, waving flags of the Флот (fleet). This, of course, meant some beautiful motives for Ludwig. After turning down a few invitations to vodka we made our ascend to Лисья Гора [Lisya Gora] from where me made some incredible shots of the dimly lighted, terrifyingly polluting factories that would make every climate activist go on a rampage.

The strange beauty of pollution at night time

After shivering for easily 3 hours in the cold wind that had been continuously harassing our position, we decided to pack our stuff and leave, though without being perfectly satisfied. As the night started descending upon us, the flame ceased a little, and the steam escaping the factory on a regular basis served as the main motive. The minute our stuff was packed away, the flame rose up to an height, yet unknown to us while another white cloud was spit out of the deepest intestines of the urban nightmare. The mixture created the effect of what looked like an enormous explosion over the factories.
Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to capture it. It was stunning. Simply breathtaking. The hours of exhausting waiting for the perfect moment would have been absolutely worth it, but our patience had left us five minutes too early.

On the following days, we said goodbye to EKB by drinking beers and hearing about locals expressing their concerns towards either immigration to Europe or homosexuals in general… big country, same absurd fear everywhere. They, however, provided us with an unexpected gift that had us rejoicing for many hours and carried us through the city on eagle’s wings. The reputation of the city, i.e. rock capitol of the Ural, loudly resounded through the evening streets. With the coda harmoniously ebbing away, we split from our friends in EKB and prepared for the trip back the next day.
At the train station, an unexpected sight caught our sight. A souvenir that is a fine addition to my collection of small presents from Russia.

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For more pictures, access Ludwig Schubert Photo’s Instagram Profile: https://500px.com/ludwig94
or: https://500px.com/ludwig94

Putting the “grim” in Pilgrimage

Russia has this weird tendency to always be a little strange. This even applies to other spheres of life that one wouldn’t think of straight away. This weekend I had the extraordinary pleasure of experiencing my first short-distance hitchhiking trip: to the Raifa monastery. While the destination was but 30 minutes away by car, it already served as staff gauge for further upcoming trips. I was accompanied by a German girl, Sophia, who lived most of her life in a city right across the Mosel River, so basically in visual range to Luxembourg – I had to travel all the way to Kazan to meet my neighbour.

 

 

Raifa monastery has little amazing to offer to its visitors. It has the typical white-stoned walls, its golden cupola, the brightly and positive religious fresco that cover every single inch of the inner walls and, last but not least, it’s golden, shiny icons. And I may not be an expert on the matter, but I’d claim, that some icons value more highly than others. This is, some shine brighter than others, have been blessed zealously than others thus increased in magical/spiritual powers (how much mana must a priest or bishop invest to get a +10 Protection for Relatives bonus?) and show a different holy person or wise man. Even though I do not possess a picture to prove my testimony, there was a literal queue waiting to touch and even kiss an icon of Maria with Son. And the religious fervency with which they (i.e. especially women with children or babushki) threw themselves at a representation of holy people that no one has set an eye upon within the last 2000 years, made me question the rationality of these fine and humble people. Even on a different level, would it not be sufficient to carry the belief in one’s heart, rather than to spread it with ones lips on a picture that has been touched by thousands before? Is it not a little silly and hypocritical that one prays for a child that serves in the army (e.g.), rather than to make sure, that war isn’t a necessity at all? Would an active, defensive position not achieve more than putting ones trust in a being/spirit/dream and sometimes nightmare, that does little more than listen?

After witnessing this absurdity display of raw and untroubled Orthodox faith, we wandered around the premises of the monastery, investing into water from a heavenly water spring and holy bread and used the celestial privies. We made a careful inspection of the divine stone walls, that slowly started to crumble and inspected the cherubic monastic gardens. Blessed are the decorations outside the walls, for they are humble, yet still fascinate the eye of the observer; the modesty is more to the Lord, for he renounces the simple outward appearance. The propriety and decency weighs heavier than gold and polish, and they are more appropriate for people who profess to worship God.

 

 

 

One more detail in the monastery that startled me before turning to hitchhiking. What are monks supposed to do while living behind holy walls, untroubled by modern hysteria? Praying for oneself and meditating can be arduous work, since one will sooner or later encounter a bottleneck and run out of ideas. Therefore, one has established a place, where children can spend their time and listen to the dramatic and fascinating stories of their favourite biblical heroes or visit a military cemetery (spreading the word of God requires modern technology). Plus, if the children are gone to play with army equipment, yet one still has no time to worship our Lord, one can leave a small tip in the monastery; a monk will take over the labour and invest all of his magical power in protecting ones relatives before the evil forces.

 

 

 

A small note on hitchhiking in Russia: It’s working perfectly fine! Though we didn’t travel far away from the city, a no point did we wait more than 10 minutes and each driver was unique in a very specific way. However, the second car that helped us managing the final part of the road to the monastery was of greatest interest, as the driver was either suspicious or unwilling to helping us; it was but thanks to his passenger, who he picked up along the road as well, that he stopped. The passenger, however intrusive he might have seemed, promptly invited us to beer and sausages and was very keen on learning more about us foreigners, traveling to Russia, for he appeared to be blissfully astonished to hear this; especially, as he wondered whether Europe was cleaner than Russia (interesting comparison anyway). He was so absorbing in his manner, than he immediately succeeded in convincing the unaware driver to made a minor detour to the monastery, where the eventually left us off.

Our return to the city of Kazan was guaranteed by a former Танкист, a tank driver, who had served in the former GDR – it is very common for me to meet former soldiers while hitchhiking, who had all served in Socialist Germany for some years and who, without exception, all adored the German beer – and was on his way home.

Please excuse the bad quality

Our voyage ended back in the city of Kazan, where we were greeted by a world, completely opposite from the one that we had just left: Welcome back to Soviet Union!

 

Victory Park

 

 

 

 

“One can enjoy bureaucracy and therein identify the bizarreness of life” – Ludwig Schubert

Some of you might be slightly familiar with the rich Russian history. I will not continue with a full rendition of what has happened before, only state the most important factor that all major events have in common: time. Certainly, never has anything ever happened, is happening or will ever happen anywhere in this world or the next without the factor time. This accounts for all creation, all matter in the universe, all countries and all gummibears alike.

(Space is, of course, just as important. Historically speaking, however, space and time are not proportional. If you compare the first mention of historical relevance of two given countries, then you would quickly see how Luxembourg is relatively smaller than Mother Russia, despite the prominence it already enjoyed in Roman times.)

Time is a vital ally of Russia. In times of war, the military could just wait for the right moment to start a counter-attack. Sometimes the government would wait for its industry to slowly wake up. Most of the Russian people need to be patient for winter to end its long lasting choke-hold so that they return to their actual work or hobbies. In fact, this waiting is so deeply enrooted in the culture that is has found its way to spoken and written language alike: friends of the language should have a look at the usage of the aspects of the various verbs of movement.
In fact, time and patience or so important to the culture that everyone arriving in Russia is already welcomed with a lot of paperwork that will test their patience to the breaking point. You may want an example for the better understanding of this problem: If writing this blog required Russia bureaucracy to be written, that would mean that I would have to visit at least 5 different offices in 3 different buildings that are distanced by at least 500m (this is especially unpleasant in winter times when the temperatures drop below -20°), sign a dozen papers in official Russian and show three different types of copies of the exact same picture.

The door to the accountant’s office. Text says (among others): “Come in one by one!!!”, “Please, leave nothing behind”, “Working times”, yallah yallah

In reality, the situation is even worse.
Traveling to Russia, especially in the framework of a program as official and well-known as Erasmus+ will have you at your knees, begging for a quick end. The way leading up to our departure was paved with quicksand, rather than actual stones that could have facilitated or accelerated our movement. Every movement bringing you closer to being accepted to Russia and receiving a scholarship already requires a considerable number of signatures and time (meaning: 2 different Learning Agreements, 2 different Motivation letters as our first choice spontaneously changed, a number of meetings with the responsible, a CV and so on and all of which should be handed in in at least 2 languages and in different styles). All of this process took about 2 months of work, varying in intensity.

Moving on. The real work, however, awaited us after crossing the border to Mother Russia. The first days in the country that had been at choke-hold of frost for many months were marked by an overwhelming and utterly and completely nonsensical amount of paperwork that had to be carried out in great hurry and in dozens of offices. As one is required by law to register wherever one goes at any time, so that the surveillance state knows where its subjects and foreign elements plot against him, we immediately had to go through a medical examination in order to enter the prison/dormitory. This went as follows: A Turkmen girl impatiently waited for us in what was soon going to be our new cell/home and let us through the Poliklinika where a couple of doctors inspected our health, to make sure that we didn’t have Syphilis, Tuberculosis or some weird mutation of Western values or ideals (the latter they didn’t check). This small inspection exacted of us some hours of our lifetime, combined with a thorough visit of the many-store medical building.
The documents thus retrieved at the end of this examination granted us the right to actually enter our house (House 7, inhabited solely by foreigners). Once inside of the building, we very hurried through two more bureaus where we had to sign another wave of documents. They were, as all other documents or contracts, written in a complicated Russian – it is not entirely out of the world to believe that we transfered our souls to the Red Army in the course of our actions. Afterwards we could finally leave our luggage in our new living quarter where we were greeted by our new flatmate with a hospitable and warm “Oh! I didn’t expect any guests!”, before we put our snow capes back on and made haste to be back in our coordinators office. He, that is our coordinator Rustam – we figured that our nickname for him “Rastam” would be more accurate, if only he could grow his hair and started smoking hashish – then congratulated us on having achieved the rank of Novice Bureaucrat and for having survived the first day of our 5-month stay.
The day eventually came to end with two aliens falling into their beds in their cells in this prison in a strange and cold country, that had only given us a short impression of what the actual paperwork here could look like. At this point, when our exhausted bodies longed only for rest and the cessation of these absurd procedures, a sudden panic shook us awake: This had only been the first day, yet we still hadn’t chosen any of our courses that we were to visit, nor actually paid for the jail sentence/dormitory. In the course of the following weeks and months of our stay, we have learned to live with these absurdities and take it rather as a comical game, rather than an unfortunate and miserable stroke of injustice against us foreigners. It is a fact, that all beings who were regrettable enough to be born here, or those that have willingly and purposefully moved to Russia suffer very alike – with the minute distinction, that some were lucky enough to know Russian to a degree, that they can at least understand when they sell their kidneys to some authority when signing any paper.
However, once you have left the greatest part of the work behind you or have learned to live with it, then you will see that life moves swiftly and you may be surprised at the amount of meaningful work that a person can fulfil here, if they have overcome the hindering traps, obstacles and whatever may pave ones path – success is all about conquering the first steps and using all the help one can possibly find.

A small insight into the paper terror that we had to go through