Chronicles of a Soviet Capitalist
Moscow in 1993 was not the glittery Babylon it is today. It was still the monolithic, gray Moscow of the Soviets, but the order that the Soviets had once kept was now replaced by a barely controlled chaos. Freedom had hit Russia like a great slap, and people were still reeling from the shock. Almost every day, somebody took to the streets—Communists, ultra-nationalists, unhappy miners, cavorting paratroopers. Pyramid schemes, faith healers, and nationalist movements, each stranger than the next, sprang up on a daily basis. Gangsters were everywhere, partying or dying like flies. Still, there was electricity and heat, the garbage was picked up regularly, and you usually didn’t get shot unless you deserved it.