100 Rubles

Moscow, Russia - Last week I dedicated one day to doing research in the Khamovniki district of Moscow. I wandered around all day, popping into hotels, restaurants and galleries, and by early evening, I finally made it to the outer edge of the district, which is the location of Novodevichy Convent.

The convent's tall tower stood in majestic contrast tot he still light sky. Though all the buildings were already locked up tight, I was able to slip through the gate and wander around the quiet grounds. The gate to the cemetery was also open, but the guard shook his hed when I walked through. He crossed his two index fingers to make an X in front of his face. "Zakrit," he said. Closed.

"The cemetery is closed?" I asked. He shrugged and pointed at his watch.

I was disappointed. The Novodevichy Cemetery is one of Moscow's most prestigious resting places - a veritable "who's who" of Russian politics and culture. Here are the tombs of Khrushchev, Chekhov, Gogol, Mayakovsky, Prokofiev, Stanislavsky and Eisenstein, among many other Russian and Soviet notables. Of course, I have been to Novodevichy many times before. But last year former president Boris Yeltsin died and was buried here, and I wanted to see the new gravesite.

I pleaded with the guard. "Can't I just enter for five minutes to pay my respects to Boris Nikolaevich?"

The guard looked at me skeptically. "Well you can, but after hours you have to pay for admission."

I didn't get it. "During the day it's free but after the place is closed it's not free?" He nodded. "How much?"

"100 rubles," he answered.

"And who do I pay?" I asked, still confused.

"Me," he smiled.

So much for my participation in Medvedev's campaign against corruption.

***

A few days later, I was doing research around Paveletskaya Square. Behind the train station, there used to be a big hall that displayed Lenin's funeral train, the old steam engine that brought Lenin's body to Moscow from Gorki Leninskie, where in died in 1924. 

I remember that the place was hard to find - hidden away in an overgrown park, the entrance to which is obscured by a row of kiosks. But this time, the park was also enclosed by an iron gate. Once again, it was early evening, and  group of dirty disheveled drunks sat on a bench outside the gate, watching me suspiciously as I approached.

Just inside, a security guard sat in a little booth watching TV. I pushed open the gate. "Is it still possible to see Lenin's funeral train?"

The guard smiled and shook his head. "If the Lenin Museum is closed, why shouldn't the funeral train also be closed?"

I was curious what they did with it. "Is it still there?"

"It's still there," he confirmed. "But there are offices in that building now, so during the day it's impossible for visitors to enter." He stopped for a minute and looked at me carefully. "But if you come back after 7pm I'll take you in for 100 rubles."

"So that's how it works," I laughed. Who says you can't get anything for 100 rubles in Moscow these days?