Drab Moscow of ’90s a distant memory
MOSCOW In the early Gorbachev era, some 25 years ago, Baskin-Robbins and Pizza Hut put their toes in the potentially lucrative Soviet market by opening stores that catered to ordinary Russians as well as foreigners.
The bright red pizzeria just off Kutuzovsky Prospect had two entrances and two dining rooms. Separate but unequal. Russians, who could pay only with “soft” rubles, had to wait for hours in a long line on one side. My Western friends and I walked right in on the right side, sat down and paid with dollars.
I was working as a reporter for U.S. News & World Report, but not much had really changed since my first stint a decade earlier with United Press International. Back then, I once took my young, state-appointed Russian teacher to an upscale restaurant, where she was promptly humiliated by a doorman who challenged her right to be there.
What a difference a few decades and a convertible currency make. When economic changes ushered in the hard currency ruble, it shrank against the dollar, but at least Russians could buy something with it.
No longer second-class citizens in their own country, they can walk into any restaurant or store. No more high-handed “nyets” at the front door.
I came back for the first time in 19 years to report on the Russian mood during the Olympics. I’m blown away by how much the currency shift has dramatically altered the city landscape.
Largely gone are stores simply called “Bread” or “Store No. 154,” where long lines were standard and customers by and large unwelcome. In their place are shops with colorful window displays aimed at luring in customers, not chasing them away.
I even spent an evening at a Moscow sports bar with Russian engineers and lawyers to watch the opening ceremonies. It could easily have passed for London.
With free Wi-Fi widely available, Russians on smartphones or with computers while away evenings at a “Chocolate Latte” shop or even a Dunkin’ Donuts.
Everywhere I look in Moscow, the scene is jarring: a McDonald’s thriving next to the Foreign Ministry; a digital signboard flogging Samsung products or the latest Meryl Streep flick.
In the ’70s, outsiders rarely glimpsed fashionably dressed young women. Now, smartly dressed young professional women attend business conferences in hotels, read their Kin- dles on the subway or skate at Sokolniki Park.
What a pleasure to see a more prosperous citizenry on the sidewalks and in the Metro instead of the look of the downtrodden peasant or shawl-draped babushka.
There’s a price to pay, of course. Unemployment is a worry. A salary gap looms, leaving many unable to pay rising prices for all these goodies. I’ve heard some Russians still refer to “The
I’m blown away by how much the currency shift has dramatically altered the city landscape in Moscow.
Golden Years,” when expectations were low but jobs were guaranteed.
Now, with their expectations raised, many Russians tell me they are anxious about the future, signs of a stalled economy and what that will bring.
So what became of Pizza Hut and Baskin-Robbins? The original Pizza Hut moved last year, replaced by a smart Russian restaurant. And Baskin-Robbins is no longer on Kutuzovsky. The small building — refurbished — still stands. The new tenant? A Lamborghini dealership.