Paranoia continued
Disembarking from the flight to Riga, my first reflections concerned the composition of those other passengers. Although the flight was full, there were not many other Irish on it, if any at all.
That night I went in search of a good bar where I might get chatting to some locals but unlike Latvians in Dublin there was no need or compulsion for them to learn or attempt English. This language difficulty in Riga set the tone for my whole trip.
However in Latvia, there was the familiarity of places like Ennis, Mayo and Dundalk, whereas in Russia and Ukraine I had to explain the physical location of Ireland a number of times.
Riga is a charming city that escaped much of the destruction of World War two and while appearing like many other European cities, I was pleasantly surprised with a good night out. It is underexplored as compared to stag night disco cities such as Prague and Talinn. Riga is at least on a Monday night a city for locals in the main.
I found a nightclub with a decent crowd in dancing to local pop music. The pleasant surprise was that the young people danced a waltz to the music. This was no 1950s ballroom but downtown in amongst the Riga hotspots. Given the waltzing combined with my lack of Russian and Latvian, dancing with an attractive local beat any conversation in recent months. So it was that I spent the night dancing cheek to cheek falling in and out of love by 3am closing time.
On the train the next day to St Petersburg, I had cause to reflect on the momentus journey I was embarking on. The train was at least fifty years old. Possibly in the last one hundred years, there were only two generations of trains. How many people had clandestinely travelled in and out of Russia in the last one hundred years?
James Connolly's son Roddy on his way to the first congress of the third International or perhaps John S Clarke the Scottish Parliamentarian, Poet and Lion tamer who gave a cure for Lenin's dog at the same congress. How many officials recalled back to Russia for 'discussion' from the front in the Spanish civil war or dissidents in the years up to 1989 travelled this route? No doubt amongst the ordinary passengers over the years, political revolutionaries lurked in the cabins of this and previous trains on this route.
Certainly my attitude was shaped by my understanding of Russia and also by advice from activists in Moscow 'that with the G8 Summit, we just don't know what the state will do'. So in anticipation of linking up with members of our sister party in Russia, I brought some copies of 'The Socialist' from Ireland, for their benefit.
Aware that the soldiers at the border checkpoint might search my bags, though I had thought this unlikely, I separated out any political literature in my bags to the cabin which would be overhead the door where the inspector would stand. Just because I was paranoid, it didn't mean they weren't looking at me. So at the border checkpoint my fears were confirmed. They carried out a thorough search of my bags and rucksack. Luckily there would be no questioning as I had removed any questionable i.e. political, material from the area.
As the train progressed away from the Latvian- Russian border I stepped up on the seat and replaced political newspapers back in my luggage knowing that now I was safe. I arrived in St Petersburg and was greeted by the Secretary of Socialist Resistance (CWI- Russia) who stated that we would have to wait at the station for a further while as the member he had travelled with had been called in for questioning (see previous report on Social Forum). We waited and chatted informally over a beer outside the station. When he was satisfied that there would be no further interuptions to our travels, he negotiated with a a private taxi to take us to Kiro Stadium.
On leaving the Russian Social Forum, a number of journalists from western press asked our group why we were leaving and one persistent US reporter for Associated Press Agency, Jim Heintz asked if he could ask a few more questions. We were making a quick exit from the stadium as some of the activists at the forum had decided on attempting a futile gesture at protesting.
We were keen to make our quick exit to avoid a pointless beating and arrest, so one member brushed Mr Heintz off with 'we late for our train' but he said that he would walk and talk with us.
In the course of the interview, I stated that the forum had been a very interesting experience in that I now realised that Russia was not only a dictatorship but a crazy dictatorship. I was referring to the disproportionate police activity in relation to the Social Forum which was attended by only 500 people, yet at least 3,000 police were involved in surveillance.
The next day in an internet cafe in Moscow, I found that I had been quoted in the Washington Post and other major newspapers. The Russian state's media monitoring unit would no doubt have cut out the artice for record given its content. After checking my email and indulging in a bit of pointless net surfing, forty minutes after being logged in, two police officers entered the cafe.
They walked around and definitely did not appear to be on the lunch break in order to indulge in their own personal interests. These men looked like they had a mission. They took glances at a number of computers. Thinking they could have been looking for me, I rose slowly my face flushed and made an exit out of the cafe having closed down all pages.
I swiftly walked and jogged to a safe distance cursing myself for paranoia at the same time advising myself of the need for that safe distance before sitting in an outdoor cafe drinking an expensive but soothing beer.
That night I went in search of a good bar where I might get chatting to some locals but unlike Latvians in Dublin there was no need or compulsion for them to learn or attempt English. This language difficulty in Riga set the tone for my whole trip.
However in Latvia, there was the familiarity of places like Ennis, Mayo and Dundalk, whereas in Russia and Ukraine I had to explain the physical location of Ireland a number of times.
Riga is a charming city that escaped much of the destruction of World War two and while appearing like many other European cities, I was pleasantly surprised with a good night out. It is underexplored as compared to stag night disco cities such as Prague and Talinn. Riga is at least on a Monday night a city for locals in the main.
I found a nightclub with a decent crowd in dancing to local pop music. The pleasant surprise was that the young people danced a waltz to the music. This was no 1950s ballroom but downtown in amongst the Riga hotspots. Given the waltzing combined with my lack of Russian and Latvian, dancing with an attractive local beat any conversation in recent months. So it was that I spent the night dancing cheek to cheek falling in and out of love by 3am closing time.
On the train the next day to St Petersburg, I had cause to reflect on the momentus journey I was embarking on. The train was at least fifty years old. Possibly in the last one hundred years, there were only two generations of trains. How many people had clandestinely travelled in and out of Russia in the last one hundred years?
James Connolly's son Roddy on his way to the first congress of the third International or perhaps John S Clarke the Scottish Parliamentarian, Poet and Lion tamer who gave a cure for Lenin's dog at the same congress. How many officials recalled back to Russia for 'discussion' from the front in the Spanish civil war or dissidents in the years up to 1989 travelled this route? No doubt amongst the ordinary passengers over the years, political revolutionaries lurked in the cabins of this and previous trains on this route.
Certainly my attitude was shaped by my understanding of Russia and also by advice from activists in Moscow 'that with the G8 Summit, we just don't know what the state will do'. So in anticipation of linking up with members of our sister party in Russia, I brought some copies of 'The Socialist' from Ireland, for their benefit.
Aware that the soldiers at the border checkpoint might search my bags, though I had thought this unlikely, I separated out any political literature in my bags to the cabin which would be overhead the door where the inspector would stand. Just because I was paranoid, it didn't mean they weren't looking at me. So at the border checkpoint my fears were confirmed. They carried out a thorough search of my bags and rucksack. Luckily there would be no questioning as I had removed any questionable i.e. political, material from the area.
As the train progressed away from the Latvian- Russian border I stepped up on the seat and replaced political newspapers back in my luggage knowing that now I was safe. I arrived in St Petersburg and was greeted by the Secretary of Socialist Resistance (CWI- Russia) who stated that we would have to wait at the station for a further while as the member he had travelled with had been called in for questioning (see previous report on Social Forum). We waited and chatted informally over a beer outside the station. When he was satisfied that there would be no further interuptions to our travels, he negotiated with a a private taxi to take us to Kiro Stadium.
On leaving the Russian Social Forum, a number of journalists from western press asked our group why we were leaving and one persistent US reporter for Associated Press Agency, Jim Heintz asked if he could ask a few more questions. We were making a quick exit from the stadium as some of the activists at the forum had decided on attempting a futile gesture at protesting.
We were keen to make our quick exit to avoid a pointless beating and arrest, so one member brushed Mr Heintz off with 'we late for our train' but he said that he would walk and talk with us.
In the course of the interview, I stated that the forum had been a very interesting experience in that I now realised that Russia was not only a dictatorship but a crazy dictatorship. I was referring to the disproportionate police activity in relation to the Social Forum which was attended by only 500 people, yet at least 3,000 police were involved in surveillance.
The next day in an internet cafe in Moscow, I found that I had been quoted in the Washington Post and other major newspapers. The Russian state's media monitoring unit would no doubt have cut out the artice for record given its content. After checking my email and indulging in a bit of pointless net surfing, forty minutes after being logged in, two police officers entered the cafe.
They walked around and definitely did not appear to be on the lunch break in order to indulge in their own personal interests. These men looked like they had a mission. They took glances at a number of computers. Thinking they could have been looking for me, I rose slowly my face flushed and made an exit out of the cafe having closed down all pages.
I swiftly walked and jogged to a safe distance cursing myself for paranoia at the same time advising myself of the need for that safe distance before sitting in an outdoor cafe drinking an expensive but soothing beer.
posted by garrettmullan at 12:31 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home