Lex Libertas

Kostya (short for Konstantin) is one my closest friends over here in St. Petersburg. We've know each other for about two years now. Last night a bunch of us were at a friend's house until 3am. Normally, I have to leave any party by 11pm to catch my pumpkin to Kupchino. If I stay out past 11, I either have to sleep at a friend's place, or pay 300 rubles for a gypsy cab home, 600 for a real cab. Kostya is the only of my friends who has a car, and it was his presence at the party that allowed me to stay out so late. Unfortunately, since I live so far away from the center, it was almost 3:30 when we got home. Kostya would have had to drive all the across the city to the North in order to get home, so he decided to just crash at my place. Ever the gracious host, I click down the couch, get a blank and pillow, and pour him a glass of water. I return from the kitchen and offer him the water. "No thanks, I already drank from the chainik (tea kettle)." Great guy, but needs some refinement.



St. Petersburg's most dedicated Metallica fan



He's the pretty one



What Kostya drank out of

PS: I'm writing this post in a bookstore that has a cafe attached. Some R&B song is playing where the chorus includes multiple uses of the words Hoes, Bitches, Nigga, and F**k. It's strange to walk around a perfectly respectable bookstore and hear this coming from the speaker. I'm probably the only on in here right now who understands.

One of few drawbacks to St. Petersburg, vis-a-vis Moscow, is that it is less technologically developed. Almost every cafe in downtown Moscow has free wi-fi access, even McDonald's. Here, however, there are only a handful, and all off the main drag. "Carl's Jr" just opened a restaurant here. One of the main attractions is that it offers free wi-fi with a purchase. Unlike Moscow, where the access is usually open and limitless, you need a password and it's only for 30 minutes. I came here to eat dinner explicitly because of this deal. I was pleasantly surprised. Like McDonald's, the Carl's here was better than back in the states. The sandwich is cleaner and tastes better. In any case, I've been sitting here for 20 minutes waiting for the singal to come through. It just did, but now I only have 10 minutes before I'm supposed to leave and meet someone.



Carl at Carl's Jr.

In addition to wi-fi coverage, St. Petersburg is behind the times when it comes to recharging your phone account. In Moscow, on practically every street corner they have automated machines. It's excruciatingly simple. You type in the phone number that you want to recharge, then you put money in the machine. Presto, the money immediately appears on the account. Yes, you can recharge your friends' accounts if they are indisposed. You can even recharge total strangers' accounts, if you're not careful about double checking the number that you entered. Here, however, we're still using cards.

You have to buy a card, which come in fixed denominations of 150, 300, 500, and 1,000 roubles. The cards usually cost more than they're worth. In my neighborhood, for example, a 150 card will cost 160, 300 will run 320, etc. In the center of town the price can be even higher. A 150 card might run you 180. True, some machines in Moscow charge a commission of 3%, but most don't. Even at that, a 150 deposit would cost 155, far less than you'd pay in downtown St. Pete.

I love this city, but it's got some technological catching up to do if it wants to rival Moscow. That said, it's still progressed quite a bit from when I first came here three years ago.

The Belorussian is my favorite train station in all of Moscow. I am fortunate to be staying at an apartment with a great location, a fifteen-minute walk from Belorussky Vokzal, which doubles as a metro station on the circle line (the edge of downtown). It's also a brisk fourty-five minute walk from Red Square. Train stations in Russia are named for the main direction that they travel, either towards a large city or region. Belorusski to Belarus, Kievski to Kiev, etc. The anchor stations on the Moscow-St. Petersburg run, however, have a tinge of political intrigue. The trains from St. Petersburg leave from Moscow Station, whereas the trains from Moscow leave from Leningrad station - they purposely decided not to change the name of the station. The stations are the exact same design, a large open central hall, with only one minor distinction. In Moskovski station (St. Petersburg), there is a large bust of Tsar Peter I. In the Leningradski station, however, there is a large bust of Lenin.

On Sunday I bought a new camera, three guesses why. I'll write up the explanation later, it deserves its own post. It's basically the same camera as before, but the newest version, the Panasonic DMC-FX07. I really loved the last version (5megapixel), it gave me some fantastic photos, and I hope that this one is at least as good, if not better. For starters, it has more built-in options. I am not camera literate - at all. I really ought to take some sort of photo class that explains what all the settings are for, and when to use them. Matters are made worse because I don't have an english-language manual. It came with Russian and Ukrainian. Virtually any Ukrainian buying this camera, especially in Russia, is going to understand the Russian version, so please give us non-Slavic foreigners an English manual!! I did a quick look on the panasonic site, and couldn't come up with a downloadable version.

On Monday I was waiting at the metro for a friend, and decided to play with some of the options, particularly the color settings. It has five choices: off, cool, warm, black and white, and seppia. "Off" and "B&W" and understandable even by me. I had no idea what "seppia" was, but it's the brown, late-1800s option. "Warm" was very useful. It was a rather bleak day, and this option really brought out the colors, making the pictures much more vibrant. I'm not sure what "cool" is supposed to do, but it gave everything a bluish tint. It seems that "warm" serves a purpose, making the pictures more lifelike under more diffused light. Does "cool" do the opposite, say, take the edge off of Saharan jeep tours? And what is the camera doing in these modes, specifically "warm" and "cool?" How does it enhance the colors? Is it some sensitivity/aperature trick that I don't know?

Here's a sampling of the pictures so far:



Entrance to the ticketing area. This is a standard aspect ratio (3x4) with the color option "off," to give some sort of baseline. Yes, in general, everyone over here wears black coats and jackets. You can always tell in LA when the Moscow flight gets in. People start pouring out into 35C weather, and everyone has on black leather jackets.



Entire facade, panoramic (16x9 aspect ratio), "off"



Entire facade, pan, "warm"



Entire facade, pan, "cool"



Metro entrance, pan, "warm"



Metro entrance, standard, "seppia"



Metro exit, pan, "b&w"



Metro exit, stan, "off"



Metro exit, pan, "warm" - Here we have a girl buying flowers, and the warm setting makes a huge difference on both the color of clothing and the flowers, the building, and even the flyers on the wall.



Street-crossing, stan, "b&w"



Tracks leading from station, pan, "b&w"

This is my favorite picture that I've taken so far here in Russia. It's the door to the metro, and on top is written "Entrance." On the door, however, is written "No Entrance." Well, that sums up a lot of life over here - "Entrance, No Entrance."

I came back again to St. Petersburg yesterday. A good friend from America, who I haven't seen in two years, is in town for a week, and I wanted to see her. Of course, I'll take just any excuse to come for a visit. Though I must say that Moscow is better in one aspect, the weather. Women's Day (March 8th) in Moscow was beautiful. The sun was shining, and at 8C (46F), it was warm enough to enjoy being outside. I spent much of the day walking around the center, from the Belorusskaya metro station to Kitay Gorod. Yesterday in St. Petersburg, however, was gray, rainy, and cold. I don't expect that to change for the week I'm in town. Moreover, even when the temperatures in Moscow and St. Petersburg are the same, it's colder in Piter. In general, it's much more humid here, being a swamp on the bay. And often there is wind coming from the Finnish Gulf. That said, I've survived three winters here, in much worse conditions than a drizzly +1C (34F), so I certainly won't let it spoil my trip.



Taken by my apartment. Beautiful, isn't it. Compare with the second picture in this post. Same park.

St. Petersburg is a stunningly beautiful city. My first direct experience with Russia was in June 2002, when I came over and taught debate. The first stop was Moscow, which was interesting, but my schedule was so full that I didn't have much time to absorb the experience. I spent a few days in St. Petersburg, and was able to explore the center of the city. It was early June and the city was in full splendor. The weather was warm and clear, and everything in bloom. While I remember being impressed with the parks and Nevsky Prospect, it was the canals and embankments that captured my heart. I have always loved water, and I find it hard to imagine living in a city that isn't located on the coast or doesn't at least have a river running through it. The opening chapter to Moby Dick, in addition to being some of the most beautiful English ever put down on paper, describes Ishamel's similar feelings :

Say, you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent- minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries - stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region.

A year later, in the spring of 2003, I was trying to decide what to do after graduation. I was struggling with a choice between law school and a PhD program in International Affairs. The PhD program at the top of my list had expressed a desire that it's candidates be fluent in two foreign languages. My undergrad degree was in French Politics, and I had spent my third year in Grenoble, France. It was the most wonderful year of my life, and if anyone is considering studying in France, I would highly recommend Grenoble, especially over Paris. If you're facing this choice, email me, I'll explain why.

In any case, I was trying to figure out what second language to pick up. Spanish was the obvious choice, but I had already skipped over it once, and it just seemed too close to home. I remembered the fun I had the year before in Eastern Europe, on that same debate tour we visited Ukraine, Romania, and Moldova. Growing up in a military family in West Germany, Russia had always interested me, and I figured that Russian would continue to be an important language in politics and increasingly in business. With that background nudging me in the direction of Russian, St. Petersburg screamed out as the obvious place to study. Yes, I had heard that Russia was cold in the winter, but my experience of it was a warm, breezy week in June. What better way to study Russian than wandering the canals and backstreets of the Imperial capital? I've been in Moscow three months now, and it doesn't compare to St. Petersburg. I have very conflicted feelings about St. Petersburg, and my relationship to it, though that's a entire post in itself. For now, I'd like to share some pictures of the canals that enraptured me in June 2002, and along which I have strolled countless times and which have been the background to an entire spectrum of emotional and physical states.

I have walked before on the Neva (main river), not a very good idea. I was new, and had been told stories about how it was possible to cross in winter. An Australian friend and I decided to try our luck in January '04. When we got to the middle, we found that the river wasn't frozen all the way across, and like idiots got right to the edge. The Neva is a rather deep and powerful river, so it takes a lot to freeze it over. The other main rivers aren't nearly so hearty. Last month it got down to -20C when I was in Piter. After some fresh snow, a friend and I saw tracks on the Fontanka, and since both of us have long wanted to, we set out to walk from one bank to the other:





Carl with Nevsky visible in the background.



A decent sized river.



We walked all the way from the staircase by the pink building in the background.



This boat was parked here on the fontanka all last summer. I have no idea how the people got from there to the embankment, or why they left it there. And I'm pretty sure they weren't scuba diving.



Griboedov breaking up in April of last year. On the left (freshly painted) is the Institute of Finance and Economics, one of the best universities in town.



Again, the Griboedov breaking up. Kazansky Cathedral on the left, Church on the Spilt Blood in the background.



Canal near the Primorskaya metro station, leading to the Finnish Gulf. I spent a lot of time here my first year, when I lived at the dorm on Vasilievsky Island.



Same canal, with an extraordinarily long apartment building on the right. You have to see this thing to believe it, overwhelming.



View at night, taken from the balcony of a friend who lived in a building two minutes away from the metro station.



Peter and Paul Fortress, across the Nevsky. Lit up for a June holiday called "Crimson Sails" that honors all the graduating high school students.



Griboedov canal, right near one of the main metro stations on Nevsky. People tend to congregate there and wait for others. While waiting they necessarily smoke and drink, throwing their used beer bottles, cigarettes, and empty packages into the canals.

Unfortunately, I still have problems with my comments. If you have anything to add, please post in the comments section of my livejournal page. It's the exact same entry, but I would love to hear any feedback or differing opinions.

There was an explosion, presumably a bomb, at a downtown McDonald's in St. Petersburg. It's on the South end of the main street, Nevsky Prospect, and about 300 yards from the hotel where I'm currently staying. It's an extremely popular location, and I've been there numerous times over my 2.5 years in this city. So far the reports state that six people were injured, and nobody killed. While there is certainly damage to the interior, it's doesn't seem like a very big explosion. As such, I don't think it was Chechens. They use much more sophisticated explosives. It was probably planted by some of the xenophobic skinheads who unfortunately populate the city.

One of the darker secrets of St. Petersburg is that about one foreigner is killed a month. Not rich Westerners, but usually Africans or Asians. They know this, and don't usually go out alone, especially after nightfall. In addition to one being killed, several are usually beat up pretty badly per month. I met an African student once had a scar on his face from being beaten in broad daylight on Nevsky, right in the center of the most popular part of town. I've written about similar experiences before.

Though the skinheads don't just limit themselves to beating dark-skinned foreigners. A little over a year ago they killed a young anti-fascist activist, again, right in the center of town. I don't really know what to call them, because skinhead presumes that they all have shaved heads, which they don't. Moreover, many young Russians have that haircut who are not extremists. I'd call them nationalists, but most Russians (like most Americans), would consider themselves "nationalists." I suppose the best current political term would be "ultra-nationalists."

I've had my own run-in with them several times. I lived in a rather rough area of town for a year and a half, and learned very quickly how to look like a Russian, complete with angry scowl. If I ever had any problems walking home at night, I was very far from the metro, and pretty much on my own. Once, however, a friend was visiting me and we were on the bus in my neck of the woods. We were speaking English, not yelling, but loud enough that everyone was aware. The guy in front of us turned around rather angrily and said "Are you Moldovan?!" It's better that they think I'm Moldovan, so I responded "yeah, I've lived in Chisinau. So what?" He started to speak again, but our stop was approaching, so my friend and I headed towards the door. While standing near it, another guy grabbed my arm, and tried to pull me towards him as he also asked if I was Moldovan. I broke away and stepped out of the bus.

Russians have a love-hate relationship with the West, and when you see a drunk Russian, you never know which you're going to get. I was once kissed on the cheek by a drunk middle-aged man in who I had just met and kept yelling out "America, friends!" Surprisingly, I've found that the older the person the more accepting they are of Americans. It's the young drunks that I want least to find out.

In any case, whenever a foreigner gets beat or killed by ultra-nationalists, it's always labeled by the police as "Hooliganism." As if killing a Tajik child was somehow the equivalent of drunk soccer fans beating on each other. Likewise with this bombing, it was called "hooliganism." Beyond the amateur explosives, Chechens have little to gain from targeting a distinctly Western target. Their fight is with the Russian Federation, not the West. Yes, they are linked into international jihadi movements, but they're not about to advertise that on CNN. Instead, this target is a much better fit for groups who want to expel the foreign influence into Russia. Ironically, at any given point there are far more Russians in McDonald's than foreigners. So these ultra-nationalists are really only targeting Russians. Though since these are obviously traitors, I'm sure that suits them just fine.




The windows are shattered, but still in place.



There were numerous uniformed personnel inside the building. The FSB is one of the successor organizations to the KGB, think of it as the Russian FBI. It's name means "Federal Security Service."



The city police are there as well.

Seasons begin early in Russia. Today is the first day of Spring, and people are congratulating each other on making it through another winter. Though I'm afraid it's a tad too soon. After living over here, I understand why our seasons start on the 21st of their respective months, and not the first. Here's a look at the first day of Spring from my apartment window:

Also, I have updated my entry about the bombing at McDonald's.

The main square in Chisinau is still all decked out for the New Year, and on Sunday night (Orthodox Christmas) there was quite a crowd. The square is located in the center of town. Stefan cel Mare, the main road, goes through it. On one side is the government building, and on the other an arc and a church. Largely blocked off to road traffic, the square can hold a fair number of people. For the celebrations, one end has a stage, and the other a sort of fair. Several booths sell food, mostly bread-based goods. The main attraction, however, is a series of mini photo studios. All lined up in a row, each is decorated according to a different theme, most involving people in various animal suits. People go and get their picture taken, usually as a family. Each has a background wishing a Happy New Year. I took a video of the whole line of stalls, you can access it here. (Currently having problems with Youtube, will link as soon as it is up)

After ten years of almost constant travel, I am finally getting the hang of packing light. I have, for two weeks, my backpack and a small gym bag. Three shirts, two sweaters, two pairs of pants, underwear, sleeping clothes, and various electronics/toiletries. Unfortunately, I didn't get any sleep last night. I stayed up talking with a good friend who I haven't seen in a while, and started packing at 5:30, when I was supposed to be out the door at 6:15. Though it all worked out fine. Packing light is even easier when you travel around the post-Soviet space. It is not unusual for people here to wear the same outfit several days in a row.

Clothing is actually very expensive over here, especially high quality products. Not only are the clothes more expensive in absolute terms than in America, but when you compare the price to wages the affordability is even more skewed. As a result, people might have two or three nice outfits that are wearable to school or work. In the states, we would interchange the outfits, trying to spread them out over multiple days. Here, however, it's not uncommon for a person to wear the exact same outfit all week. Then next week they would change to a different one. Admittedly, I have noticed this less and less over the past three years, which might be a reflection of a rising standard of living.

This makes packing for trips increadibly easy. In fact, I overpacked. I could have easily gotten away with bringing only one pair of pants, two shirts and a sweater. However, in my packing I made one key misestimation. In Moscow right now there's no snow, and it's relatively warm. I've been walking around in just a sweater and leather jacket. I figured that Moldova, since it's considerably further South, would be even warmer. Last time I checked the weather, it was around 7 or 8 degrees Celsius. As such, I left my winter coat in Moscow, and just took my jacket. Morever, I left behind the warmer sweater and took the lighter ones. Imagine my surprise when I looked out the window of the plane and saw snow covered fields.








Now I'm sitting in the apartment where I'm staying, all bundled up, including a scarf. The heating doesn't seem to be on - thanks Gazprom! ;) I brought shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in, instead of full pajamas. I tried wearing them around the apartment, but had to wrap myself in the blanket. It's cold, but it's bearable. I've been through worse in St. Petersburg.

1, 2, 3, 4

I just hope the weather here doesn't dip below zero in the next two weeks.

I leave tomorrow morning for Chisinau. The flight leaves at 10:15am, and arrives at 10:15 am. It's like a time machine. I'll be there approximately 2 weeks visiting friends and taking a breather from Moscow. As always, it's the night before, and I'm not ready. Two summers ago I lived five weeks out of a carry on bag, and after that experience I'm a lot more confident in my last mintue packing skills. In fact, if I start packing too early, I tend to over pack. Put an empty suitcase in front of me with 30 mintues before I have to leave, and I'll get the essentials.

Over the past three years, I have noticed a marked increase in the complexity and attractiveness of the New Year's decorations around St. Petersburg. As a quick recap, everything that we in the West have for Christmas, the Russians have for New Year's - lights, trees, presents, and an old guy in a red suit. Though the Russians have added Snegurochka, a nubile young female who dresses in blue and accompanies her "grandfather," Ded Moroz. There are numerous versions of Snegurochka's story, but being a Russian character, it rarely ends well.

Since I have far more friends in St. Petersburg than Moscow, I decided to go up there last weekend to celebrate. Russians celebrate Christmas on the 7th of January, though most of them know about the 25th of December, which they refer to as "Catholic Christmas." Most Russians don't know about Protestantism, and assume all non-Orthodox Christians are Catholics. Though you can't really fault them for that distinction, after three generations of Communist rule, most Russians don't even know anything about Orthodox Christianity, much less the intricacies of Western Christianity.

I celebrated Christmas Eve at the church I used to go to in St. Petersburg. They put on a nice show that included music, theatre, and the testimonial of the worship leader. Russian identity, especially in the aftermath of the Soviet Union, is a very interesting topic. The identity of a Russian who becomes Protestant is complex, to say the least. For Catholics, Christmas is the 25th, period. For Protestants, however, it is much more fluid. Tradition would dictate the 25th, but there are no hard and fast rules. Celebrating on the 25th or the 7th are both possible options, and the choice says something about the person's self-identity. Most Protestant churches and individuals get out of this dilemma by celebrating on both dates.

This is all background to say that the seasonal decorations are the same. If you grew up in a Slavic country, you'll walk around and think "Oh, the New Year's decorations are up." And if you grew up in the West, you'll notice the "Christmas" decorations. I would say that the single biggest achievement over the past few years has been the use of colored lights of various shades to illuminate trees. In short, walking around the city was a very pleasant experience.




The fountains at Moskovskaya are turned off and covered in lights.




The square in front of the Russian Museum.




A closeup of the square.

I was standing in the entryway to church on Sunday, when an elderly woman approached me. In her hands was a stack of paper. She explained that it was a list of prayer requests, and asked if I would be willing to spend a half-hour each day praying for various members of the church. It was first time at this church, and the list of requests looked daunting in Russian. I started to explain that I wasn't a native speaker, and that I might have difficulty understanding the lists. She asked where I was from, and I responded America. A Protestant church is one of the few places where I can confidently except a positive response to that.

Her expression immediately changed, and she grabbed my wrist. She said that if I saw Billy Graham she wanted me to thank him. As she related the story of his crusade in 1992, her eyes welled up and her voice wavered. Graham rented out the Olympic stadium, and she came and heard him preach. Fifteen years later, and she is still moved to tears. In the time since she has probably seen many more missionaries come to Russia, but I am undoubtedly the first American that she has been able to speak to without a translator. Finally given an outlet to express her deep gratitude, I became a stand-in for Billy Graham and the organizers of the 1992 crusade.

I didn't know how to respond. Here was a sixty-something year old woman pouring out a deeply personal story of her coming to Christ, and asking me to thank a man that I will likely never meet. I fumbled for words and said something about the growth of Protestantism in Russia and how much progress has been made in fifteen years. Feeling an insufficient response to her heart-felt plea, I then assured her that if I see Billy Graham I will thank him for her. I intend to follow through.

It's highly improbable that I will meet Billy Graham, but actually rather likely that I will one day meet his son or grandson. In the case that I do, I will relate this woman's story. It will be twice removed from the original people involved, but hopefully still hold its meaning.

Most Russians will claim that their education system is far superior to the American one. If we are talking about high school, then they are absolutely correct. The average Russian high school senior would easily wipe the floor with an average American senior in a discussion on any given topic, from literature to history to science. There are several reasons for this.

First, Russia follows the European school of thought when it comes to education. Pupils are meant to be imbued with a large body of knowledge. Americans don't have this background and subsequent repositories of information. Second, American schools have succumbed to the touchy-feely hippy paradigm that children are fragile, and we shouldn't damage them by hurting their feelings. Making standards and expecting students to meet them only sets them up for failure and gives them low self-esteem. Russians don't care how you feel about your results on the exam. If you do poorly, you suffer the consequences. Interestingly, Russian youth often tell me that the smart people are actually well-liked in Russian high schools. In American schools, of course, they are the social rejects. Being smart is a curse, and you would do well to try and hide it. If you show any interest in learning whatsoever, you are completely shunned. It's difficult for me to comprehend, but apparently Russian high schools aren't like that.

Keep in mind that this all applies to high school. I received my Master's at one of the most prestigious universities in all of Eastern Europe, Saint Petersburg State University (SPBGU). It is President Putin's alma mater, and always raises an eyebrow when name-dropped. Though, sometimes, older people won't recgonize it unless you use its old title, Leningrad State University (LGU). In fact, as part of his KGB duties, Putin was in charge of vetting the foreign students at LGU. Along with bad food, boring professors, and departmentally sponsored parties at nightclubs, cheating is a time-honored tradition at Russian institutions of higher learning.

What only a few intrepid Americans have accomplished in cheat sheet mastery is second nature for Russian university students. Almost every student that I know makes these cheat sheets (шпаргалки - shpargalki), and the amount of info that they cram on tiny pieces of paper is awe-inspiring. Though the better students will often claim that they make them "only because doing so helps you study for the test and memorize the notes," which is undoubtedly true. As I was writing this entry, a friend instant messaged me that she was preparing for an upcoming exam, by making shpargalki. The students are brazen about making them, and the professors all know. In fact, they probably had them when they were students. When walking around the faculty on exam day, on the ledge of every window are discarded shpargalki from the day's exams. I was once sitting at the faculty cafeteria, which is in the center of the building and a main stop for professors and students, and saw two girls preparing their cheat sheets for the upcoming exam. They were doing a field test run-through, slipping the tiny papers into any part of their clothing that would both contain them and provide easy access during the exam - pockets, sleeve, cuffs, etc. The most creative was when she slid the paper into her bra. And yes, extremely low-cut tops, especially if well-endowed, are appropriate attire for exams.




This isn't my picture, the girl I saw didn't sew it into her shirt, but actually slipped it between her breast and bra. A mesmerizing sight.


In addition to cheating on exams, an enormous number of students copy class papers from the internet. I'm sure that it happens in the states, but here it seems almost everyone does it. I can't tell you how many times a shocked student will ask, "you mean you actually write the paper yourself!?!?" In fact, often they'll download something and turn it in without ever actually reading it. They're not too afraid of getting caught, usually the professor doesn't read the paper either.




This is an ad for books containing premade shpargalki and essays.


Just so I don't pour all the blame on the students, though they are certainly deserving, some of the professors have their own version of cheating. University professors often make only a couple of hundred dollars a month. This is clearly not enough to live on. Some make up for it by teaching at multiple universities, others by working side jobs as consultants in various fields. Still others decide to fleece money from their students. Some will straight up allow you to give them money for a good grade. It doesn't happen during the exam, of course, but beforehand. This option is for those who want to take the easy way from the start.

For the students who don't want to bribe, but try to study their way to a good grade, some professors can pressure them using the exam system itself. If you fail an exam, you are allowed to retake it within the same finals period. A friend once failed the first time, and upon arriving on the assigned day for the retake, was told by the professor that she had to pay an administrative fee. She asked where to go pay, and the professor responded that there was no need to take time and go to the office. If she would give him the money, he would take care of it for her. Unhappy, but aware of what was going on, she grudgingly handed over the cash.

In fact, this bribing even goes beyond the professor to some of the administrators. At the state university, there are two kinds of students. Paying students (платники - platniki) and scholarship students (бюджетники - byudzhetniki). Those on scholarship don't have to pay tuition, get a free place in the dorm, and a monthly stiped (pathetically small, around $30 a month). In order to enter a Russian university, you have to take an entrance exam. In theory, the people with the highest scores on the exam are given scholarships. The proportional number of these spots vary by the faculty to which you are applying. My faculty, International Relations, has a relative low number of scholarship students, whereas the Eastern faculty has a higher percentage (Asian languages and cultures, think the old usage of the word "Orient"). Several people, however, have told me that everyone pays something. Even many scholarship students probably paid someone along the way to get on the scholarship list.

Don't get me wrong, Saint Petersburg State University is a fantastic center of higher learning. Some of the best and most intelligent professors of my academic career taught in the Master's program. The majority of students from SPBGU that I met are at least as smart, and many smarter, than people at my own alma mater, UCLA. That said, cheating is an endemic and systemic problem at all Russian educational insitutions, in a way unimagined in the US. As with many things here, the main problem is that the people just don't care to change it. They all know it's a bad system, but it's always been this way, and what can one person do?





Current cheat sheet technology





A glimpse into the future