Business As Usual

In her email yesterday to the 23 A.R.T. students here, our wonderful program coordinator Tanya gave us some updates about the metro. She ended it with, “Be calm, don't panic. Business as usual. Love, T.”

We all live in a day and age when terrorist attacks could occur anywhere at any time. But there are definitely a few cities where they are more likely to occur. Despite my vague knowledge of past attacks in Moscow, I really had no worries at all when I arrived, or for my past month here. But being in a city when it’s been attacked is very different from learning about it elsewhere. In fact, the strangest part of this event has been the difference between the reactions of those here in Moscow and those back home. Business as usual versus fear and anxiety.

I have not noticed a huge difference in the atmosphere here since the attack. Individual encounters are marked with a slight change, each one illuminating a bit more of Russian life in Moscow. When Tolya spoke to us in class that day, he spoke with a grave and regretful tone on how unfortunate and yet somewhat common these events were today. Our professor Igor related similar sentiments: it’s terrible and awful, but we’re used to it. Nastia, who is younger than these two, sat in the office that day looking sad and despondent. Giving her a hug, she told me that it’s not just about how you could have known someone in the attack. This is the first time in six years Moscow has been hit badly (not counting the train to St. Petersburg), and Russians had let go of some of this anxiety. It was sad that the gypsy cab drivers here jacked up their prices in the wake of a crisis. More worrisome, apparently some men had attacked two Muslim girls wearing headscarves.

Of course this and other parallels made me think of 9/11. I remember how the country seemed to grind to a halt that day. I remember coming home from school and sitting glued to the television in horror. But here in Moscow, the only major (and it was actually minor) change in my day was walking instead of riding the metro. I went to class. I read at a café. I watched the beautiful and breathtaking ballet of The Seagull at the Stanislavsky Music Theatre. The only difference was how much emptier the house was because people couldn’t make it. Otherwise, business as usual.

But I suspect that’s only on the surface. I keep thinking about how awful it is that we live in a time where we have come to regard these sorts of events as inevitable. That we’ve accepted that humans can reach so low a point that they not only want to blow themselves up, but they also want to blow up total strangers for a pointless point.

But then again, maybe we haven’t really accepted these events as inevitable. As Igor said when we remarked that so little seemed changed with people on the streets: they may seem fine, but inside they are not.