Scott Reynolds Nelson: Seeds of discord in Ukraine
When I arrived in Odessa in the spring of 2011 to do research on trade between Russia and the West in the 19th century, I imagined the relatively idyllic picture painted by financial observers of that period. When our plane landed, I discovered that my spoken Russian was not good enough to bargain with the Gypsy cab drivers. I finally located someone who spoke a little German and a few words of English. I showed him the address of my hotel, and he looked me up and down, twice. When we arrived, I discovered why. "Russkaya mafiya," he said as I startled at the men in camouflage jackets who guarded the front gates with Kalashnikovs. Two sniper towers had sightlines that converged on our taxi. I had, apparently, booked a hotel in a Russian-mafia quarter. My broken Russian and my printed reservation got me in.