Bringing Out the Big Guns

Nationalism is the thing here in Russia. There definitely seems to be a "love it or leave it" attitude à la the Tea Party. (Unfortunately, this means I hear a LOT of racist comments against Chechens, Asians, Jews and anyone else not ethnically Russian). Flags are everywhere, from billboards to cheese wrappers. The militizia still wear those traditional furry hats.

Shared history is the common denominator between Russians. The hammers and sickles still remain on street decorations, and there's a certain longing for the "good old days." Some older people still revere Stalin. My old metro station had a carving that called Lenin the "sunshine of the people."

It's a strange mix of old and new, and I'm having a difficult time figuring out what to make of it all. I've always been wary of nationalism. Yesterday I climbed on old WWII tanks in a park, which was cool, but I couldn't help but wonder how many people that tank had killed. A certain degree of pride in one's country is admirable, but when families take their toddlers to climb on tanks, I think things have gone too far.