National Post (National Edition)
THE RUSSIA YOU SEE AND THE RUSSIA YOU DON’T SEE.
IT’S ALL ABOUT PUTIN’S SHOW, AT THE EXPENSE OF THE DOWNTRODDEN
I’m unapologetically nosy. Most columnists are. We watch and listen, poke and pry. We certainly don’t mind our own business.
We try to provide a perspective that might not be evident or obvious to those watching on television.
That’s my excuse for eavesdropping on a colleague during last week’s World Cup opener — a total invasion of privacy.
Then again, there’s no expectation of privacy at a FIFA World Cup. There’s hardly an expectation of privacy in this country — or anywhere, for that matter.
So I don’t feel bad about eyeing the messages he sent back to his editor and copy desk.
“I’m writing very pro-putin copy,” one of the messages read.
The English-speaking journo later added, “I like Putin.” There was no explanation given.
But based on the reception this country’s leader received inside the Luzhniki Stadium, the unsuspecting journalist’s Putin infatuation wasn’t dissimilar to most everyone in attendance.
Russia’s president was roundly cheered as he addressed his people — and the world — prior to Russia’s 5-0 dismantling of Saudi Arabia.
Moments later, FIFA boss Gianni Infantino suggested Russia would finally be conquered, “by football.”
Of course, the opposite is true. This World Cup is being used to showcase a country that previously was nowhere near the top of foreigners’ travel list.
But it’s hard not to get caught up in all the shiny objects throughout the Russian capital.
Moscow is an incredibly beautiful city, draped with Soviet-era architecture that’s both nostalgic to locals and captivating to visitors.
The city’s metro system is akin to an underground museum, lit by giant chandeliers and cleaner than any subway system I’ve ridden.
What’s more, there are no homeless people or vagrants, though it makes you ponder what they’ve done with them. Still, like my unknowing colleague, you begin to buy what Russia’s selling through its historic attractions, gorgeous venues and pristine buildings.
Then you leave the city.
The four-hour train ride from Moscow to Saint Petersburg flips the script for those who’d otherwise give this World Cup host flawless reviews.
Rusted factories dot nearby suburbs that are littered with deteriorating homes barely bigger than a backyard tool shed.
You wonder if they’re homes or garages until you spot women gardening in the vicinity.
Civilians stop and stare as this high-speed train packed full of World Cup fanatics, whizzes by at more than 200 km/h. You wonder if they’re tuned-in to this tournament or if it’s merely a minor distraction from a simple existence that’s largely void of things North Americans take for granted.
It’s not entirely dissimilar to what I experienced four years ago in Brazil, where favelas — essentially tent cities — surrounded the stadium in coastal Salvador.
You often looked away as you walked by with a pricey laptop, international cellphone plan and enough Brazilian currency to feed an entire village.
Needless to say, you weren’t the least bit convinced everyday Brazilians were in any way benefiting from what was on display.
Four years later, I sense the same in this Eastern European behemoth.
While things aren’t nearly as dire here as they were in South America, there has still been an odd lack of criticism — especially when you consider many of Russia’s cities won’t net cash from their newly-built stadiums.
It’s not just a “white elephant” if it’s built in Africa or South America.
It’s something that made FIFA’S decision to come here all the more puzzling considering England also bid to host this very tournament.
It also makes the “United” 2026 bid seem all the more sensible given Canada already has the basic infrastructure needed to host this competition.
The difference, too, is Canada won’t be selling itself when the world arrives next decade. Everyone here already gushes over Toronto and Vancouver when they read “CAN” on my credential.
Because, like me, everyone here becomes nosy if they spot you wearing Fifa-issued anything.