Harvest, Part II

Fairytale Siberian Woods- Dagaev

Fall in Russia, Osyen, is the time of year fro regrets and revolutions and regressions, the execution of the temporal, the flood of bittersweet nostalgiawelling up and spilling onto everything.  The leaves change and each womnan's heart is pierced by a little stab of resentment as she exchanges gloriously short skirts and brilliant spandex for for autumn coats and bulky sweaters, and changes strapless heels for her boots.  The dachas are closed, the potatoes are dug, the gardens gleaned.  Now is the time for fruit compote and vitamin C for colds and hot red peppers crammed into vodka.  Now is the time for orange chanterelles and brown puffballs and the shimmering green and purple caps of podbiryozi.  Now is the time for fish and smoke and salt and roe slit from the bellies of sturgeon.

Now is the time for endless rain and scudding clouds.  A fellow expatriot here for last year's Fall said that he stood on the main street, Leninski Prospyekt, in October and watched winter hurtle from the the North.  A solid wall of heavy air and icy wind barreled from the Artic along the Ural foothills and down the streeet until it hit him broadside with the force of a punch to the face and gut.

Right now the crisp clean cold is only kissing us at night and in the morning, chilling us with playful gusts and tickling us with shivers in the evening. The light is still golden, it's still pinning the edges of the day from 6:30 in the morning to 9:30 in the evening, but any minute now those edges will give and the day will snap shut to winter's dim four hours, like a rolled parchment.  The shadows reach and follow us, stalking us like a mugger.

Fear is the perennial guest at Autumn's table.  Last year, when the ruble fell on August 16th, the start of Russian Fall, and the fuel stores were low and the harvest was horrible, Fear was a grimacing skull of panic, a rattle and flurry of buying and selling and holding one's breath and tightening one's belt.  Last year's panic was starvation; Maksim's mother staves off the fear by blistering her surgeon son's hands with 1000 square meters of potato fields every Spring.  A product manager in Moscow used her sample cabinets at work to store cooking oil and rice she'd hoarded.

This year's name for Fear is Cold.  It scampers like a shiver down the backbone of every city resident.  It grins between the lines of every conversation, and huddles in the corner of every apartment.  This is why.

Just as every Regional government in Russia has been unable to pay it's pensioners, it's soldiers, and its construction workers, every Regional government has been unable to pay its gas, oil, and electricity bills.  This is not surprising, considering that 70% of the nation's fiscal resources originate in the regions, but only 20% are spent outside of Moscow- and of those funds, half of them are spent in St. Petersburg.

Until this year, the State Gas company, Gazprom, has extended unlimited forbearance on those debts.  However, this year Gazprom is privatizing a large chunk of its operatiuons in order to generate operating revenue.  In order to generate more revenue and to support the price of its stock, Gazprom has decided to collect on its debts.  It is no longer delivering oil to organization until they clear their debts.  In some case's, this is 10 years' worth of arrears.

In addition, Russia has been dumping oil on the world market in an effort to keep up withthe interest payments on its external debt.  This means that the oil reserves of one of the world's largest producers are at an all time low.  Add rising domestic oil prices and inefficient airplanes, factories, and cars that guzzle gas as voraciously as Koshei the Deathless, and you have the makings of some serious concerns.

Now consider that the major cities are heated by a central system operated by the city and regional administration.  So is the electricity; so is the gas.  Cities such as Perm and Chelyabinsk have been conserving fuel by shutting off all heat and hot water since June.  They are considering reducing the supply throughout the winter.

Yekaterinburg has had hot water all summer.  In fact, there was more hot water this summer than there was last January.  We have also had road repairs, building renovations, and the regional medical insurance has been supplying "essential drugs" again after a 12 month hiatus.  Our city day celebration this August had two fireworks displays and 3 sound stages.  This is not a good sign.

It doesn't mean recovery, it means that there is an upcoming gubernatorial election and our mayor wants to be the next governor.  The worst of it is that elections were held this Sunday.  No matter who wins or loses the election, the next governor is inheriting a bankrupt legacy.  Fall has just begun, to be followed by a long frigid winter and an icy Spring.  Essentially, we have seven months of bone-chewing cold to go- and the city hasn't been conserving money or fuel.

3:32:39 PM