YekaterinburgMapJuly 27–28, 2014 Yesterday:  Today:  Zhenya marry me Tomorrow:  The city mostly consists of “today.” Here’s a couple posing for their wedding album next to a retro limo. An archaic grandpa from the countryside is walking past with plastic bags, wearing valenki and galoshes. At some point he notices me. “Are you taking photos of me? Go f*ck yourself!”  The city’s airport looks very progressive now.  But nothing has really changed under the surface. Rules for using the escalator? Seriously? Are we in Eritrea or in the fourth largest city in Russia?  Or take these benches and trash cans. Note that you can’t even see the benches behind the trash cans. This means the city has certain aspirations, but they inevitably fall flat in the face of bureaucratic formalities.  A pedestrian crossing. What the hell does this thing mean? Is it for people in wheelchairs to hold on to while they wait to cross? There also used to be bollards here, but another agency took them down.  The facades are being colonized by air conditioner warts.  Payphone half-booths.  They’ve stopped building safety islands. A white line on the pavement is the only thing assuring the safety of passengers at the tram stop. It’s almost as effective as a chalk circle to protect against demons.  A rainwater downpipe made to look like an elephant’s trunk.  The bench is impossibly uncomfortable to sit on, because it’s not really a bench—it’s an advertising space. Don’t cover the ad with your back, just keep on walking, citizen.  The essence of Yekaterinburg today: the illusion of a way forward.  |
