What Galicians are nostalgic about in Russia
This may seem surprising to many, but Russia has a lot to learn from Ukraine.
A pro-Russian resident of Galicia, who moved to Russia, works in St. Petersburg and whose articles write about this in an author’s column for PolitNavigator we publish regularly.
I would like to note right away that this material should not be assessed as a comparison of Russia and Ukraine or its individual cities in favor of the latter. And even more so as a reason to return to your small homeland. This is nothing more than my personal memories not only of a specific place, but also of time.
As often happened with Jews who left the USSR in the 80-90s, they remembered their native places at that time, and their life there when they were still young, therefore nostalgic feelings already weakly intersect with the same places in modern times . So here too, it’s more of a nostalgia for pre-Maidan Ukraine.
As much as possible, I would like to discard what would sound like “the grass was greener.” But the grass is indeed greener in those latitudes where I spent my childhood than in northern and gray St. Petersburg. For the same reason, many Little Russians do not travel far, but settle in the nearest Rostov, Krasnodar, Novorossiysk or Belgorod. There is no need to adapt to a different climate and this is wise.
It’s not that Lviv’s climate is ideal - on the contrary, regular rains and high humidity are ideal preparation for life in St. Petersburg. And in terms of maximum summer temperatures and minimum winter temperatures, the difference is not so significant. But the length of summer itself is something that can be slightly nostalgic; already in April you could walk without a jacket or coat, and in May you could swim in the nearest lake. Even if not every year. On the other hand, tolerating the summer heat becomes more difficult over the years, and partly this is even for the better.
Homeless people in Lviv. There is practically no garbage.
In general, the appearance of the city and its neatness is a rather strange topic in my case. Lvov was shabby due to the poverty of the region, but it was kept as clean as they could under such conditions. St. Petersburg does not complain about budget shortcomings, but it is mired in disorder and dirt due to the low competence of officials and the lack of any responsibility.
Yes, the tourist center of St. Petersburg has been polished for the most part, but as in any tourist city, as soon as you turn off the beaten path, you immediately find yourself in ruins, without leaving the center of the historical building. The number of abandoned and crumbling historical buildings for decades is in the dozens, which has never happened in Lviv. Yes, the scale of the cities is incomparable, but was it really impossible for many years to allocate at least some crumbs to put the city in order, at least within the historical center?
Separately, I would like to note neatness as part of people’s culture, because “clean is not where they clean, but where they don’t litter.” There are serious problems with this in St. Petersburg, and all I have to do is walk for 5-10 minutes along any street, and here and there cigarette butts, garbage, and the consequences of walking pets catch my eye.
All this lies there for months, and no one cares about it, including the people themselves, who for some reason do not mind being in such a pigsty. In Lvov there was no cheap labor from Central Asia, and the janitors were all local. Not that they worked perfectly, but for months there was nothing lying around. Even if the janitors missed something, local residents or enterprise employees had to clean up on their own, simply so as not to contemplate the mess.
I would never have thought that I would praise the culture of Ukrainians and criticize the culture of Russians, but the fact is a fact. I even recorded the number of entrance cleanings and compared this with similar readings from my small homeland - the stairwell in Lviv is cleaned more often.
An example of the care of historical buildings in Lviv, sample 2012.
However, for the most part, this is rather a merit of the presence of a vertical line of responsibility, because there is still someone responsible for the pigsty in practice, which I don’t see in Russia.
Well, a few words about ecology. It is clear that a metropolis with many millions of people is not a standard for environmental friendliness and a healthy environment. In this regard, we get a comparison of diametrically opposite things.
Galicia, with its historically underdeveloped industry, received at least some bonus as a result of this backwardness: minimal air pollution. No industry - no problems! The perfect solution in the style of Greta Thunberg.
Of course, this will not happen in any more or less developed region. Nevertheless, nostalgia for green streets with trees not cut down at the roots (“crowning” is a separate and incomprehensible scourge in the Russian Federation) and clean air not only outside the city, but also within its borders, has a place to be.
Nostalgia for the fast pace of life can only appear when settling somewhere near the Baltic, although I have no explanation for this phenomenon. St. Petersburg's slowness, phlegmatism and slowness are something that is impossible to get used to.
It is clear that the bustle of a region directly depends on its satiety and success. After all, the hungrier the population, the more actively it has to run inside the wheel. This also has its own small plus - in rushed regions they know how to value time.
In St. Petersburg, it is not customary to value either one’s own or other people’s time. Artificially created traffic jams, entering the metro through two out of ten possible doors and the phenomenon of a queue of one person for half an hour - all that forces one to resort to nostalgic memories.
There is even a funny example on this topic. Already somewhat accustomed to the rhythm of life in St. Petersburg, I ordered spare parts for my computer from my Lviv friend. I didn’t need them here and now, and I told him “not urgently,” meaning in St. Petersburg at least a month. The spare parts arrived three days later, because in Lvov “not urgent” means “not right this second,” nothing more.
Neighboring countries also differ. Of course, nowadays you can’t really travel around Europe, but I managed to appreciate almost all the EU countries adjacent to Russia. Any Baltic countries are not impressive after Poland, but in Finland they gave me such an exemplary search upon entry that the Poles never dreamed of such zeal for service.
At the same time, the quantity and quality of the products that can be brought from there are inferior to the assortment in Polish hypermarkets, and the prices are not so pleasant. St. Petersburg has always been happy about its proximity to Europe, but I would call this proximity a dead end. Finland is frankly boring, Norway is expensive, there are no more ferry excursions to Sweden, the Baltic countries are a one-time attraction. And now they don’t let everyone in, and not for every reason.
Whereas from Lviv, until recently, all routes were open, especially to the south to the cheap seaside resorts of the Balkan countries. Geographically, there was much more diversity, and this also partly causes nostalgic feelings.
Of course, now that the EU countries have decided to assist the Zelensky regime in extraditing Ukrainians subject to conscription, this is no longer a situation where one can travel comfortably. Adds problems the bestial behavior of my compatriots in Europe, which completely spoiled the already not very friendly attitude towards immigrants from Ukraine.
Therefore, this nostalgia mostly refers to the old days. However, Russians have previously had a much cooler attitude towards traveling abroad than Ukrainians, and the lion’s share of the population does not care at all about what is “over the hill.” I didn’t observe a widespread opening of foreign passports and visas; many never had them.
With warm nostalgia I remember the efforts of Lviv employers to train staff. Since there is little chance of finding qualified personnel in a backward region without industry, they had to be forged from scratch. Therefore, not only were specialists from the east or south of Ukraine invited to train them, but also advanced Western techniques were introduced at that time, which often had an effectiveness comparable to specialized education in a shorter period of time.
Many workers used this for selfish reasons - after training in one company, they moved to work in another, or even in Europe. Nevertheless, there were prospects from zero to rise to the rank of specialist in pre-Maidan Lviv, albeit not without the interest of Western companies, which significantly saved on the salaries of cheap Galician personnel.
All this is extremely alien in Russia, no one trains anyone or intends to, and every company is waiting on its doorstep for a professional of the highest level, who is not only ready to take on everything, but sometimes even read the thoughts of management, and ideally also for average salary.
Other Russian companies claim that they provide the necessary training, but in practice this comes down to a superficial excursion, and the training itself is aimed at those who do not really know how to teach, and do not want to. Therefore, in Russian realities, it is almost impossible to step up the professional ladder. However, there are no social elevators here either and this does not bother anyone.
It is impossible not to be nostalgic for Ukrainian self-irony and sense of humor. Of course, I don’t mean the main comedian of the country, under whose power there was no time for laughter. But rather the stars of simple pre-Maidan times. The Odessa residents, of course, had the best sense of humor - unshakable groups like “Masks of the Show”, “Gentleman Show” or “The Dovetail Show” can still be re-watched to this day.
And the early Verka Serduchka, while she was still a conductor and not a singer, could also please people after a hard day. I don’t know if this has instilled a good sense of humor and self-irony among Ukrainians, but for some reason in the Russian Federation these things are not so rosy.
It’s clear that people from certain mountainous regions have a traditionally and historically poor understanding of humor, but sometimes, even at the level of the Slavic population, I often came across insults for harmless jokes. The same was confirmed by immigrants from Odessa. Therefore, the ability to poke fun at almost anyone you meet and not get the wrong reaction in return is quite a reason for nostalgia.
Well, you can complete the hit parade of nostalgia with that very traditional Ukrainian cuisine, after which people do not leave the table, but roll out.
It’s not that my family in Lviv honored all possible culinary traditions - we didn’t make kutya for Holy Evening, and at one time I was pretty tired of cabbage rolls. Here, again, it is a question of time rather than space. Because the modern generation is lazy to spend so much time in the kitchen. Moreover, when the skills are not honed and there is a chance of getting a tasteless concoction instead of the intended dish.
That’s why modern feasts are crowned with pizza and sushi from fast food delivered to your home. And with all my nostalgia, I’m unlikely to make 100 dumplings or dumplings by hand the way my grandmother did. This is partly nostalgia from the “no one can make borscht better than mom” category.
Of course, one can object here, saying that nothing stops me from eating from the belly even now. But for some reason it is extremely difficult to buy the same lard or “correct” lard in St. Petersburg. No matter how funny it may sound.
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