«Россия, у нас проблема» [Russia, we have a problem].

Last week I read some «пугающая статистика» [frightening statistics] about Russia in an online edition of a Swedish newspaper: every day in Russia «860 (восемьсот шестьдесят) миллионов сигарет» [860 million cigarettes] are sold. That’s 6,5 cigarettes per «гражданин Российской федерации» [citizen of the Russian Federation] «ежедневно» [every day]. This is indeed an ‘abnormally large’ number, as the Russian government phrased the issue. According to the same frightening statistics, 40% of the Russian population smokes – the number is higher among men – and half of these people smoke «одна пачка или больше» [one pack or more] on a daily basis. This means that 20% of Russians, or every fifth Russian, smoke 20 cigarettes or more on any given day. In most foreigners’ opinion the ‘drug’ tightest connected to Russia is still alcohol – or more specifically: «водка» [vodka] – but during my almost six years in the country I’ve learned that the most popular addiction here is another: «курение» [smoking]. You can’t take one step in this country without seeing that «люди курят» [people smoke] everywhere. When I first arrived in Russia in 2004 there were very few restaurants that had «зал для некурящих» [a room for nonsmokers], but now everywhere you go to eat there’s always one of those and also «зал для курящих» [a room for smokers], of course. I think this is a clear sign that Russia is aware that it has a problem and is trying to solve it. I have not yet been to a restaurant that didn’t have a section where one could smoke, though, and most bars and clubs are still ‘for smokers only’, so to speak.

You don’t need to be an overtly attentive person to soon notice that smoking is the preferred way of spending one’s break during the work day in this country. Everywhere outside of office complexes in the city you see people standing in small groups smoking. My university, for example, has a strict non-smoking policy – as can be read on signs everywhere proclaiming «курить запрещено» [smoking is prohibited] – but Russia is the land of constant contradiction and that’s why all restrooms in the university also serve as «курилка» [colloq. a smoking room]. Everyone here is of course aware of the fact that «курение вредит вашему здоровью» [smoking harms your health], as is stated in big print letters (but in a rather tiny font) on every single pack of cigarettes sold. There’s even a practice to not say «спасибо» [thank you] in Russia when someone lends you their lighter or gives you a cigarette – and even when you buy a brand new pack in the store – because «народная мудрость» [folk wisdom] says: «за яд спасибо не говорят» [you don’t thank someone for poison]. Instead in Russia you give the person – and the cashier behind the counter – a silent nod as a way of showing gratitude.

On May 31^st in Sverdlovsk Region, where Yekaterinburg is located (where I live), «День отказа от курения. Навсегда» [The Day of Saying No to Smoking. Forever] was honored by many stores refusing to sell cigarettes during this entire day. Most stores, however, stopped selling cigarettes only for two hours on this day. Did this day have any effect? Well, perhaps it is too early to tell. The problem with smoking in Russia is that there isn’t any particular part of the population that smokes and this fact makes it hard to eliminate completely. For you have to target not a smaller section of citizens, but EVERYONE at one and the same time and this is – as would any marketing specialist confirm – a rather tricky task. In most western countries the part of the population that smokes are often young, poor or uneducated. This is not the case in Russia. In Russia everyone smokes. Here you shouldn’t be surprised to find «профессор» [the professor] smoking next to «уборщица» [the cleaning lady] on the grounds of an academy, or to see «директор» [the director] of a large company and «сантехник» [the plumber] sharing a «перекур» [colloq. smoke break] together.

In April rumors started moving in certain circles of smokers in Russia – well, that’s half of the population anyway – that the prizes of cigarettes were to rise from between 30-60 rubles (about 80 cents-1,5 dollars) per pack to between 150-200 rubles (about 3,80-5 dollars) in early May. Most smokers exclaimed with joy and in deep relief that there would soon come a day when smoking in Russia wouldn’t be financially possible anymore. But May came and went without any changes in the prizes of cigarettes; the most popular and commonly sold cigarettes still cost less than one US dollar per pack here. With such prizes it is no surprise that people in Russia can’t agree with what is usually said in the west about smoking: that it’s «дорого» [expensive]. But the prices have gone up during the past couple of years despite that no chock raise have taken place. I can share my own experience: when I first started smoking in Russia back in 2005 the cigarettes I prefer cost 15 rubles (that’s almost 40 cents), now they cost 31 rubles (80 cents). But even a close to 100% increase hasn’t stopped me from considering them cheap enough, anyway. And I’m pretty sure most Russians would agree with me on this. The only thing that can save Russia «от курения» [from smoking] is to do what has been done before in the west: raise the prices. But when you present this opinion you’ll hear plenty of arguments from Russians about how this will be unfair to all the ‘old smokers’. They’re talking about the elderly part of the population, living in poverty in smaller towns or villages, who are now pensioners and «не могут бросить курить» [can’t quit smoking] because it is simply too late in the game for them. And soon they’d have you agree that it wouldn’t be fair to «дядя Петя» [uncle Petya] to raise the prices on his beloved «Пётр Первый» [Peter the First (one of the cheapest brands sold in Russia today)].

Maybe this would lead the naïve foreigner to think that it is generally accepted in Russia today to smoke? If everyone is doing it, then it should be just okay – obviously? That’s not entirely true, however. In Russia there’s a clear separation between the genders when it comes to whether or not smoking is ‘allowed’. It is less okay for a woman to smoke here. And Russians aren’t ashamed of telling you so. I remember an incident that happened when I was still living in Siberia. Back then I was 20 years old and one day I was smoking together with the other students in my group in front of the pedagogical university where we studied. All the other students in my group were male – almost everyone from different countries. Suddenly I was attacked by an elderly woman – the traditionally attentive and morally responsible «бабушка» [‘grandmother’] that can be found everywhere when things need to be addressed to in a properly manner in Russia. She grabbed the cigarette from my hand and screamed: «Ты же будущая учительница наших детей!» [You’re the future school teacher of our children!] She didn’t even look at the male students around me who were also smoking. She only cared that I, a woman, was smoking. At other times I’ve been screamed at by equally concerned ‘babushkis’ that «ты же будущая мать!» [you’re a future mother!]. And I completely agree with them that it is more dangerous for a woman to be smoking than for a man because we’re the ones that carry the children for nine months and then feed them with our bodies for even longer. But smoking is as unhealthy and just as much of a deadly habit both for women and for men. In Russia girls who smoke are also often called «плохие девушки» [bad girls] – which might be the reason for why less women than men smoke in this country. You wouldn’t want people to call you that, now would you? That’s why you shouldn’t smoke if you’re a girl in Russia!

Despite all of this, «курение» [smoking] is still such large a part of Russian culture that it even has a colloquial nickname: «курево» [smoking, or ‘something to smoke’]. And even though I know it is bad for me and that I should quit, the first thing I do after my plane has landed on Russian soil is to get myself to the closest airport kiosk and buy a pack of cigarettes. In my mind there’s nothing that says «я дома» [I’m home] in this country than to light up one and strike up a conversation with a fellow Russian «на месте для курения» [in the place for smoking] in the airport while I wait for my connecting flight… In my defense I can say that I have never smoked in Sweden: because my mother says only people with a death wish smoke and I do not see myself as such a person. Also I would never in a lifetime go against the word of my mother. Too bad for my health that she’s so far away from the Ural Mountains and can’t monitor me all of the time…