Thursday, July 10, 2003
Let’s talk bribes.
Just another one of those unbudgeted items that pop up on a trip around the world. Knowing when it’s appropriate to pay a bribe in Russia is both the most difficult thing to learn and also the most useful. What a tourist thinks is just an awkward pause at the post office is actually the clerk asking, "Did you want this to actually get there? Because if you do, I think it will cost about one hundred extra rubles." In this culture, what Westerners call bribes – giving money to a government official to correctly process your request or to overlook your transgressions – fits the role of a tip in Russia. Sadly though, most visitors have to figure out this intricate and fully ingrained system in an expensive and sometimes embarrassing way: on their own.
I’ve suggested to my Russian friends that they should make a small booklet for tourists that describe which situations traditionally need an "extra payment" or require a "monetary apology." I would have bought one. But this booklet will never be made. The suggestion to create such a cheat-sheet comes off as completely absurd to most Russians, not just because the last thing they want to spend their time on is a booklet to help foreigners, but because, as my friend from Moscow said so succinctly, "it’s not the Russian thing to do." He explained that although it is understood as a way of life it is also quite personal. So, while everyone knows it’s going on, no one talks about it when it happens or jokes to their buddies about how much it cost them.
A friend of mine here in St. Petersburg recently told me that a few years ago she and a friend were crossing the street when her friend was hit by a car. This was not at all surprising knowing the lack of any actual law enforcement and having seen unique driving 'system' here. What was surprising was her answer to my follow up questions about hospital bills and insurance claims. It was a stupid, perhaps auto-pilot question, retrieved from the much larger American section of my brain. After taking a few minutes to explain the concept of insurance, I then asked how it was resolved. She explained that the offending driver negotiated an acceptable monetary apology for her friend (seven hundred rubles, or about twenty-two dollars, I think) and a similar but unknown amount was negotiated with the officer who happened to be on the scene, whose additional presence was a rather unfortunate/expensive turn of events for the driver. No ticket, no report, just a completely informal and efficient form of settling out of court.
My Russian buddies seemed unimpressed by my dramatized reenactments of mileetseeya who would ask to see my documents (passport, visa, student ID card, foreign visitor registration, etc.), as they do to all the time here everywhere, and then explain that there might be a problem with this or that signature or stamp. Perhaps you forgot your student ID card, which you are required to carry along with your passport if you are on a student visa. I found that out the hard way. The mileetseeya will find something, and then take you to a more discreet area to “question” you about the irregularities and then state that, since they are not entirely sure if the documents are valid or not, you might need to accompany him to the main station where you will wait for an immigration officer to come and inspect your documents properly, aka: hours and hours of your time or maybe even an overnight stay at the station if it’s nighttime already. They don’t want to take you to the station nearly as much as you don’t want to go there, they’re just waiting for you to say an apologetic pleasantry or two about how it won’t happen again or that you’ll certainly look into it first thing tomorrow and then pass them a few rubles. Smooth, like clockwork.
Just another one of those unbudgeted items that pop up on a trip around the world. Knowing when it’s appropriate to pay a bribe in Russia is both the most difficult thing to learn and also the most useful. What a tourist thinks is just an awkward pause at the post office is actually the clerk asking, "Did you want this to actually get there? Because if you do, I think it will cost about one hundred extra rubles." In this culture, what Westerners call bribes – giving money to a government official to correctly process your request or to overlook your transgressions – fits the role of a tip in Russia. Sadly though, most visitors have to figure out this intricate and fully ingrained system in an expensive and sometimes embarrassing way: on their own.
I’ve suggested to my Russian friends that they should make a small booklet for tourists that describe which situations traditionally need an "extra payment" or require a "monetary apology." I would have bought one. But this booklet will never be made. The suggestion to create such a cheat-sheet comes off as completely absurd to most Russians, not just because the last thing they want to spend their time on is a booklet to help foreigners, but because, as my friend from Moscow said so succinctly, "it’s not the Russian thing to do." He explained that although it is understood as a way of life it is also quite personal. So, while everyone knows it’s going on, no one talks about it when it happens or jokes to their buddies about how much it cost them.
A friend of mine here in St. Petersburg recently told me that a few years ago she and a friend were crossing the street when her friend was hit by a car. This was not at all surprising knowing the lack of any actual law enforcement and having seen unique driving 'system' here. What was surprising was her answer to my follow up questions about hospital bills and insurance claims. It was a stupid, perhaps auto-pilot question, retrieved from the much larger American section of my brain. After taking a few minutes to explain the concept of insurance, I then asked how it was resolved. She explained that the offending driver negotiated an acceptable monetary apology for her friend (seven hundred rubles, or about twenty-two dollars, I think) and a similar but unknown amount was negotiated with the officer who happened to be on the scene, whose additional presence was a rather unfortunate/expensive turn of events for the driver. No ticket, no report, just a completely informal and efficient form of settling out of court.
My Russian buddies seemed unimpressed by my dramatized reenactments of mileetseeya who would ask to see my documents (passport, visa, student ID card, foreign visitor registration, etc.), as they do to all the time here everywhere, and then explain that there might be a problem with this or that signature or stamp. Perhaps you forgot your student ID card, which you are required to carry along with your passport if you are on a student visa. I found that out the hard way. The mileetseeya will find something, and then take you to a more discreet area to “question” you about the irregularities and then state that, since they are not entirely sure if the documents are valid or not, you might need to accompany him to the main station where you will wait for an immigration officer to come and inspect your documents properly, aka: hours and hours of your time or maybe even an overnight stay at the station if it’s nighttime already. They don’t want to take you to the station nearly as much as you don’t want to go there, they’re just waiting for you to say an apologetic pleasantry or two about how it won’t happen again or that you’ll certainly look into it first thing tomorrow and then pass them a few rubles. Smooth, like clockwork.
