Among the diverse people you might encounter in the world’s biggest country are a Nenets reindeer herder in Siberia, a marketing executive in Moscow, an imam in Kazan or a Buddhist Buryat taxi driver in Ulan-Ude. Within the Russian Federation, one’s ‘nationality’ refers to one’s ethnicity rather than one’s passport – and Russia has dozens of nationalities. Despite such enormous ethnic and cultural variation, there is much that Russian citizens have in common.
Over the last century Russia has gone from a country of peasants living in villages to a highly urban nation with close to three quarters of its 144.5 million population living in cities and towns. Rural communities are left to wither, with thousands of villages deserted or dying.
Russia is facing an alarming natural decline in its population, around 0.5% per year. It's estimated that by 2050 the population could have plummeted to 111 million, a 30% decrease on current figures. The main reasons for this are a high death rate, low birth rate, high rate of abortions and a low level of immigration.
Since 2011 the government has spent over a trillion roubles on projects to reverse this trend, including making large cash payouts to women who have more than two children, providing free land to families with three children or more, as well as increased child benefits and more affordable housing for young people. Harking back to a post-WWII Soviet policy, the government also resumed dishing out medals to ‘heroic mothers’ who have babies for Russia.
In 1920 Russia became the first country in the world to legalise abortion, and since then, it has remained the most popular form of birth control, with women allowed to terminate up to the 12th week of pregnancy. According to Russian news agency RIA Novosti, 1.2 million Russian women choose to terminate their pregnancies each year and 30,000 of them become sterile, many from the estimated 180,000 illegal abortions. In its investigation, the news agency also found several Moscow clinics offering discounts for abortions on International Women’s Day.
In 2016 the government came under pressure to change the law when Patriarch Kirill, head of Russia’s Christian Orthodox Church, signed a petition calling for a ban on abortion as well as on assisted reproduction and contraceptives with abortive effects.
There can be a vast difference in the quality of life of urban and rural Russians. The modern developments of Moscow and other major cities are far from the norm, with many areas of the country seemingly little changed from the days of the USSR.
That said, some common features of contemporary life across Russia stand out, such as Soviet-era flats, dachas (summer country houses), education and weekly visits to the banya (bathhouse). Cohabitation remains less common than in the West, so when young couples get together, they get married just as often as not.
As the economy has improved so too has the average Russian’s lifestyle, with more people than ever before owning a car, a computer and a mobile phone, and taking holidays abroad. The lives of Russian teenagers today couldn’t be more different from those of their parents and grandparents, who within living memory endured shortages of all kinds of goods on top of the ideology of Soviet communism. It’s not uncommon to come across young adults who have only the vaguest, if any, idea about Lenin or Stalin.
This is balanced against the memories of those who knew the former Soviet leaders only too well and are now suffering as the social safety net that the state once provided for them has been largely withdrawn.
For the vast majority of urban Russians, home is within a Soviet-vintage, drab, ugly housing complex. Many of these were built during the late 1950s and early 1960s when Khrushchev was in power, so are known as Khrushchevkas (or sometimes khrushchoby, for Khrushchev, and trushchoby, or slums). Meant to last just a couple of decades, they are very dilapidated on the outside, while the insides, though cramped, are invariably cosy and prettily decorated.
While there’s usually a play area for kids in the middle of apartment blocks, they don’t typically come with attached gardens. Instead, something like a third of Russian families have a small dacha (summer country house). Often little more than a bare-bones hut (but sometimes quite luxurious), these retreats offer Russians refuge from city life, and as such figure prominently in the national psyche.
One of the most important aspects of dacha life is gardening. Families use this opportunity to grow all manner of vegetables and fruits to eat over the winter. Flowers also play an important part in creating the proper dacha ambience, and even among people who have no need to grow food, the contact with the soil provides an important balm for the Russian soul.
Yes, some Russians can be miserable, uncooperative and guarded in their initial approach to strangers. However, with most people hospitality typically flows with extraordinary generosity. Visitors can find themselves regaled with stories, drowned in vodka and stuffed full of food. This can be especially true outside the big cities, where you’ll meet locals determined to share everything they have with you, however meagre their resources.
There’s a similar bipolarity in the Russian sense of humour. Unsmiling gloom and fatalistic melancholy remain archetypically Russian, but, as in Britain, this is often used as a foil to a deadpan, sarcastic humour. You’ll also see this contradiction in Russians’ attitudes towards their country. They love it deeply and will sing the praises of Mother Russia’s great contributions to the arts and sciences, its long history and abundant physical attributes, then just as loudly point out its many failures.
The extreme side of this patriotism can manifest itself in an unpleasant streak of racism. Don’t let it put you off, and take heart in the knowledge that as much as foreigners may be perplexed about the true nature of the Russian soul, the locals themselves still haven’t got it figured out either. As the poet Fyodor Tyutchev (1803–73) said, ‘You can’t understand Russia with reason…you can only believe in her.’
For centuries, travellers to Russia have commented on the particular (and in many people’s eyes, peculiar) traditions of the banya, which is somewhat like a bathhouse or sauna. To this day, Russians make it an important part of their week, and you can’t say you’ve really been to Russia unless you’ve visited one.
The main element of the banya is the parilka (steam room). Here, rocks are heated by a furnace and water poured onto them using a long-handled ladle. Often a few drops of eucalyptus or pine oil (and sometimes even beer) are added to the water, creating a scent in the burst of scalding steam released into the room. After this, some people grab hold of a venik (a tied bundle of birch branches) and lightly beat themselves, or each other, with it. It does appear sadomasochistic, and there are theories tying the practice to other masochistic elements of Russian culture. Despite the mild sting, the effect is pleasant and cleansing: apparently, the birch leaves (or sometimes oak or, agonisingly, juniper branches) and their secretions help rid the skin of toxins.
The banya tradition is deeply ingrained in the Russian culture that emerged from the ancient Viking settlement of Novgorod, with the Kyivan Slavs making fun of their northern brothers for all that steamy whipping. In folk traditions, it has been customary for the bride and groom to take separate bani with their friends the night before the wedding, with the banya itself the bridge to marriage. Husband and wife would also customarily bathe together after the ceremony, and midwives used to administer a steam bath to women during delivery. (It was not uncommon to give a hot birch minimassage to the newborn.) The banya, in short, is a place for physical and moral purification. For more about the design and health benefits of the banya, see http://russian-bath.com.
Follow these tips to blend in with the locals at the banya:
ABring a thermos of tea mixed with jam, spices and heaps of sugar. A few bottles of beer and some dried fish also do nicely, although at the better bani, food and drink are available.
AStrip down in the sex-segregated changing room, wishing ‘Lyogkogo (pronounced lyokh-ka-va) para!’ to other bathers (meaning something like ‘May your steam be easy!’), then head off into the parilka.
AAfter the birch-branch thrashing (best experienced lying down on a bench, with someone else administering the ‘beating’), run outside and either plunge into the basseyn (ice-cold pool) or take a cold shower.
AStagger back into the changing room, wishing fellow bathers ‘S lyogkim parom!’ (Hope your steam was easy!).
AWrap yourself in a sheet and discuss world issues before repeating the process – most banya aficionados go through the motions about five to 10 times over a two-hour period.
From its beginning as an agrarian society in which literacy was limited to the few in the upper classes, the USSR achieved a literacy rate of 98% – among the best in the world. Russia continues to benefit from this legacy. Russian schools emphasise basics such as reading and mathematics, and the high literacy rate has been maintained. Many students go on to university and men can delay or avoid the compulsory national service by doing so.
Technical subjects such as science and mathematics are valued, and bright students are encouraged to specialise in a particular area from a young age. However, several studies have found that teachers are among the country’s worst bribe-takers. Higher education is the most corrupt sphere, with bribes taken for admission to universities, exams and degrees.
During any trip to Russia you can’t help but notice the number of people getting hitched, particularly on Friday and Saturday when the registry offices (Zapis Aktov Grazhdanskogo Sostoyaniya, shortened to ZAGS) are open for business. Wedding parties are particularly conspicuous, as they tear around town in convoys of cars making lots of noise and having their photos taken at the official beauty and historical spots. A relatively new tradition (imported from Italy) is for a couple to place a lock inscribed with their names on a bridge and throw away the key into the river below.
Church weddings are fairly common; the Russian Orthodox variety go on for ages, especially for the best friends who have to hold crowns above the heads of the bride and the groom during the whole ceremony. For a marriage to be officially registered, though, all couples need to get a stamp in their passports at a ZAGS. Most ZAGS offices are drab Soviet buildings with a ceremonial hall designed like a modern Protestant church less the crucifix. There are also dvortsy brakosochetaniy (purpose-built wedding palaces) – a few are in actual old palaces of extraordinary elegance.
After the couple and two witnesses from both sides sign some papers, the bride and the groom exchange rings (which in the Orthodox tradition are worn on the right hand) and the registrar pronounces them husband and wife. The witnesses each wear a red sash around their shoulders with the word ‘witness’ written on it in golden letters. The groom’s best man takes care of all tips and other payments, since it’s traditional for the groom not to spend a single kopek (smallest unit of Russian currency) during the wedding. Another tradition is that the bride’s mother does not attend the wedding ceremony, although she does go to the party.
Over 195 different ethnic groups are designated as nationalities in Russia – a result of the country’s development through imperial expansion, forced movements and migration over many thousands of years. On paper, the USSR’s divide-and-rule politics promoted awareness of ethnic ‘national’ identities. However, the drawing of ethnic boundaries was often arbitrary and designed to make each of the designated groups dependent on the Soviet state for their very identity.
With Sovietisation came a heavy dose of Slavic influence. Most native peoples have adopted Russian dress and diet, particularly those who live in the bigger towns and cities.
Russia’s biggest minority is the Tatars (3.9% of the population according to the 2010 census), who are descended from the Mongol-Tatar armies of Chinggis (Genghis) Khaan and his successors, and from earlier Hunnic, Turkic and Finno-Ugric settlers on the middle Volga. From around the 13th century, the Tatars started moving out of Siberia towards the European side of Russia, a process that sped up as Cossack forces conquered their way eastwards from the 16th century.
Today the Tatars are mostly Muslim, and about two million of them form nearly half the population of the Tatarstan Republic, the capital of which is Kazan. A couple more million or so Tatars live in other parts of Russia and the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS).
You’ll encounter the Chuvash and Baskhir minority groups in the middle Volga region. The Chuvash, descendants of Turkic pre-Mongol settlers in the region, are mainly Orthodox Christian and form a majority (around 68% of the population) in the Chuvash Republic, immediately west of the Tatarstan Republic. The capital is Cheboksary (also known as Shupashkar).
The Muslim Bashkirs have Turkic roots. About half of them live in the Republic of Bashkortostan (capital: Ufa), where they are outnumbered by both Russians and Tatars. After the fall of Kazan in 1555, the Bashkirs ‘voluntarily’ aligned themselves with Russia. But various conflicts and rebellions subsequently broke out and it wasn’t until the mid-18th century that Russian troops achieved full pacification of the area.
In central and Northern European Russia, there are several major groups of Finno-Ugric peoples, distant relatives of the Estonians, Hungarians and Finns:
Finno-Ugric people are also found in Asian Russia. The Khanty, also known as the Ostyak, were the first indigenous people encountered by 11th-century Novgorodian explorers as they came across the Ural Mountains. Along with the related Mansi or Voguls, many live in the swampy Khanty-Mansisk Autonomous District on the middle Ob River, north of Tobolsk.
The Russian northern Caucasus is a real ethnic jigsaw of at least 19 local nationalities including the Abaza and Adygeya (both also known as the Circassians), Chechens, Kabardians, Lezgians and Ossetians. Several of these peoples have been involved in ethnic conflicts in recent years.
Dagestan, which means ‘mountain country’ in Turkish, is an ethnographic wonder, populated by no fewer than 81 ethnic groups of different origins speaking 30 mostly endemic languages.
Together with the Dagestani, Ingush and other groups in the northwest Caucasus, Chechens are known in Russia by the common name gortsy (highlanders). Academic experts on the highly independent gortsy note how they continue to live by strict codes of honour and revenge, with clan-oriented blood feuds not uncommon even today. Most of the gortsy are Sunni Muslims, although the Salafist version of Islam has become popular in recent years.
Turkic peoples in the region include the Kumyk and Nogay in Dagestan, and the Karachay and Balkar in the western and central Caucasus.
Russia’s constitution gives courts the power to ban groups inciting hatred or intolerant behaviour. Unfortunately, racist abuse and xenophobia remain a fact of life in this multiethnic nation. It's not uncommon to hear Central Asians and Caucasians referred to by the derogatory churki and khachi, Ukrainians khokhly and Jews zhidy. Even supposedly 'liberal' elements of Russian society can come out with shockingly racist remarks: anticorruption activist and opposition politician Alexey Navalny has frequently stated that half of all violent crimes in Russia are committed by immigrants – even though this figure is disputed.
Racial abuse of black African players in the nation's professional soccer leagues refuses to go away; in 2012 a petition from the largest fan group of Zenit, a St Petersburg-based team, demanded that the club exclude black players.
To their credit, Zenit enlisted a local ad agency to help change fans' attitudes. A clever cartoon video was created featuring the national Russian icon Pushkin – who had an Ethiopian great grandfather and was notably swarthy in skin colour.
Attitudes are broadening among younger and more affluent Russians as, for first time in the nation’s history, large numbers of people are being exposed to life outside the country. Under communism people were rarely allowed to venture abroad – now they are doing so in droves. Today over 20 million Russians travel abroad each year, compared to 2.6 million in 1995. The result, apart from a fad for the exotic – whether it’s Turkish pop music or qalyans (hookahs) in restaurants – is a greater tolerance and better understanding of other cultures.
More than 30 indigenous Siberian and Russian Far East peoples now make up less than 5% of the region’s total population. The most numerous groups are the ethnic Mongol Buryats, the Yakuts or Sakha, Tuvans, Khakass and Altai. While each of these has a distinct Turkic-rooted language and their ‘own’ republic within the Russian Federation, only the Tuvans form a local majority.
Among the smaller groups are the Evenki, also called the Tungusi, spread widely but very thinly throughout Siberia. Related tribes include the Evens, scattered around the northeast but found mainly in Kamchatka, and the Nanai in the lower Amur River Basin; it’s possible to visit some Nanai villages near Khabarovsk and Komosomolsk-na-Amure.
The Arctic hunter-herder Nenets, who number around 35,000, are the most numerous of the 25 ‘Peoples of the North’. Together with three smaller groups they are called the Samoyed, though the name is not very popular because it means ‘self-eater’ in Russian – a person who wears himself out physically and psychologically.
The Chukchi and Koryaks are the most numerous of six Palaeo-Siberian peoples of the far northeast, with languages that don’t belong in any larger category. Their Stone Age forebears, who crossed the Bering Strait ice to the USA and Greenland, may also be remote ancestors of the Native Americans, Eskimos, Aleuts and the Oroks of Sakhalin Island.