Laura van Deventer. Foto Mirjam Dorgelo.

In part 5 of the fieldwork 2010 series, Laura van Deventer posts an update on her research in Moscow.

A few weeks ago I told you about my arrival, getting settled and first contacts with the ‘N’. Some of you have inquired about this mysterious group – who are they, what am I doing here? Although I can answer the second  question, and will try to do so in this post, I will not disclose what group it is I am doing research among. This is for security reasons. The ‘N’ have received some harsh treatment in the past and me mixing with them and gathering data about that, well, I’m just not quite sure if the authorities applaud that. Once I’m back in April, I’ll make it public, promised!

So I’ve been hanging out with some N – visiting in their homes, sometimes going out on the street, sharing stories, eating and drinking (I may have gained a pound or two… keeps me warmer ; ). I’m basically trying to find out what it is like for N to live here, for individuals, but also as a group. What problems they may encounter, and what ‘being N’ and ‘home’ means to them.

That life in Moscow can be dangerous is illustrated by what happened to a young, nice lady I’ll call Maria. In 2003, she was on an excursion in the city with her class. A skinhead spotted her, grabbed a bottle and tried to smash her face with it. She was able to protect it by holding her hands before it – leaving her hands wounded from the glass. As her clothes were stained from blood, not to mention the shock this assault must have caused, she went home. When her older brother heard what had happened, he went out to find the skinhead. He didn’t succeed, but he did spot a cute looking lady at the bus stop. Hearing that she spoke the N language, he made a move… They dated for a year and are now married!

Now is that what you call a bloody romance?

Maria suggested to her brother that he should thank the skinhead – but I don’t think he ever did…

Negative behaviour against N is not just something of the past. A few days ago, my N friend Sven and I went out on a mission to find the office of the embassy for N people in Moscow. As the address I had was not entirely clear, we asked some people for help. One security man pointed us to a building further up the street: ‘There are lots of N.’ Inside the place (probably a hotel), Sven asked the security guys if they could tell us where the office was. The moment he mentioned ‘N’… we were kicked out of the building! Not friendly asked to leave, simply kicked out. Thank you. [We never found the office – ended up at the Omnipresent Mc Donald’s instead.]

As a good anthropologist, I try to honour and respect the traditions of the people I’m staying with. When I visited a new family about two weeks ago, I figured I’d do as nearly all of their ladies do – wear a skirt (yes, with my snowboots). About 5 minutes after I arrived, the mother of the family inquired if I don’t own any jeans. It’s cold outside! Before leaving at the end of the evening, she again restated her concern: ‘Laura, you are our guest. Please, wear jeans next time!’ Well yes, I just thought… nevermind.

Now this ‘respecting their culture’ thing took a bit of a different turn in my conversation with Sven. He suggested ‘do your scarf like this. Over your hair. Yes, like that. That’s how our ladies wear it. It looks good…. Do you do lines on your eyes?’ Me: ‘You mean make up? Yes.’ He: ‘It would be better if you wouldn’t.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because then people look at you.’

So the next time I visited his family, I put on some extra eye-liner. Not only are there limits to adjusting to your research population, there is also a thing called the rebellious female anthropologist.

These stories give you some insight into my life as researcher. For those of you wondering – yes, there are also Miserable Moments in Moscow. Moments where I am fed up with the ‘here now – gone 5 seconds later’ internet connection in my room. Moments where I miss my friends and family; where I really really don’t want to spend many hours typing out conversations and observations; moments where I genuinely feel like Moscow is a boring city. I am still the only person that sings in the metro.

If more people would do that, this would be a better place.

Laura van Deventer. Photo: Mirjam Dorgelo.

In part 2 of this series, Laura van Deventer looks back on her first weeks of fieldwork in Russia.

I will live in Russia’s capital city for three months, as part of my master’s program in anthropology, to find out how a group of people that I will refer to as the N., is living here.

Initially, it was arranged for me to live in a pension run by the company where a friend’s father works. This turned out to be very expensive. Using the network of friends and family, another room was organised for me. Now I live with a Russian lady, Nina, her 30 year-old son, and their dog called Brunhilde. Nina told me that the grandmother was a spy for the KGB in Poland. Then her son said: “You’re drinking your tea from a FSB-mug: ‘souvenir.’” Wow, until now I have only read about these things. Now I’m living right in the middle of it. I might as well be a Bond-girl!

To get anywhere in this city, I take the metro. It’s supposedly the best metro system in the world. Probably the cleanest also. There is no litter. At all. Anywhere. No bins either. Which makes me wonder – am I the only person eating a banana underground, being left with the peel in my hand for the rest of the trip?

Oh, I’m sure you all want to know about the cold. Well, it’s fine. Really, when it’s cold, it’s cold: you dress warm and deal with it. I do miss wearing skirts though. I mean, I could, but it just doesn’t really combine well with my snow boots.

In my room, as in all of Moscow, the heater is on 24/7. Which makes it nice and cosy now, when it’s – 15 outside. However, central heating will be on until the 1^st of April. It may be 18 degrees in March, doesn’t matter, the heat is on. So you open your window. Climate change, anyone?

These first three weeks I’ve re-opened my Russian study books and tried to get in touch with N. families to hang out with. It’s intense to spend so much time with people, especially when they are very hospitable: 22:30, I want to leave. ‘You are going home? You can sleep here! There is space!’ Boy, I arrived at 6 pm, yes, I want to go home. And mind you, this is a two-bedroom apartment where 5 adults and 1 child live. Oh, that’s right. The living room is a bedroom too. Every couch you see in the apartments of these people is a bed in disguise.

Most of my conversations are in Russian. I’ve gotten quite good at pretending I understand. The trick is to find the key word (noun or verb) in what the person just said, and repeat that. It totally makes it appear as if you understood what was said. Really, you should try this. And of course, always laugh at the right moment.

See, that’s how I survive in Moscow. Laugh at the right moment.

And always wear your snow boots.

Laura

Protest tegen de Russische invasie in Georgië (door pntphoto)

door Inge Melchior

De NRC-kop van 30 september is kort, krachtig en onbetwistbaar: “EU commissie: Georgië begon oorlog Rusland.” Het onderzoeksrapport van de EU heeft uitgewezen dat Georgië de eerste stappen gezet heeft in de oorlog die vorig jaar augustus uitbrak tussen Rusland en Georgië. Rusland wordt daarentegen deels schuldig bevonden, voornamelijk vanwege de escalatie van het conflict. Maar – en dit doet me vreemd genoeg denken aan de onschuldige ruzies tussen kinderen – Georgië is begonnen, aldus de EU. Hoe heeft men in Estland – het land dat nationaal rouwde om de aanval op Georgië en massaal Georgische wijnen inkocht als steunbetuiging – gereageerd op dit bericht? Hoe zit het, nu een jaar later, met hun angst het volgende slachtoffer van Rusland te worden?

Vijf artikelen zijn er gewijd aan het EU rapport in de Estse nationale krant Postimees. Het hoofdartikel kopt “Het rapport verdeelt de oorlogsschuld tussen Rusland en Georgië.” Verrassend genoeg een kopje dat een geheel andere sfeer bij mij oproept dan de NRC-kop. De andere artikelen beschrijven het Georgische perspectief “Georgië: Het rapport van de augustusoorlog bewijst niet Tbilisi’s schuld” en het Russische “Rusland: Het rapport van de augustusoorlog zou Georgië moeten beschuldigen”. Dan is er nog een artikel dat gaat over dat Georgië Rusland beschuldigt van leugens en dat de EU weigert verder commentaar te leveren op het rapport.

De commentaren die Esten online geschreven hebben als reactie op deze krantenartikelen zijn overduidelijk. Ze zijn het niet eens met de uitkomst van het rapport. En dan zijn de Estse krantenkoppen ook nog eens minder beschuldigend naar Georgië toe dan die van het NRC. De schuld ligt volgens velen duidelijk bij Rusland; ‘kijk maar eens terug naar hoe zij Georgië in het verleden behandeld hebben’. Het gevoel niet begrepen te worden door de EU speelt ook weer op. Het rapport is te weinig gebaseerd op het gevaar dat Rusland vormt voor de wereld en met name in de voormalige Sovjetlanden.

Ik herinner me nog goed de spanning die in de lucht hing in Estland vorige zomer, toen ik rustig mijn Estse taallessen volgde en mijn Estse vrienden de ontwikkelingen in Georgië. Ze bedachten plannen om Estland te ontvluchten in het geval Rusland zou binnenvallen. Ik probeerde hen tevergeefs gerust te stellen met de gedachte dat Estland nu bij de EU hoort en geen enkel gevaar zou lopen.

Maar hoewel voor mij veiligheid en vrijheid vanzelfsprekend zijn, ligt voor hen het gevaar op de loer. Hoe feitelijk het NRC de uitkomsten van het rapport dan ook probeert te presenteren, de onbetwistheid ervan is ver te zoeken. Waar Georgië probeert haar onschuld te bewijzen, Rusland vindt dat Georgië niet genoeg beschuldigd wordt, promoten de Estse krantenkoppen dat meer schuld naar Rusland zou moeten gaan. Hoe kan een onderzoeksrapport in deze wereld van historisch gevormd conflict nog uitsluitsel geven? Juist; niet. Wie immers, kunnen we het recht geven om onpartijdig te bepalen waar conflict begint en waar het eindigt?

Inge Melchior is promovendus aan de Vrije Universiteit. Ze doet onderzoek naar collectief geheugen in Estland, met nadruk op herinneringen aan de Tweede Wereldoorlog.

Eerder publiceerde ze op het weblog: “Zingen met je hele land“, over het belang van nationale liederen in Estland.