There is no denying that different cities and different regions differ greatly in atmosphere, dialect, habits and manners of the population, in the goals they pursue and the means by which they intend to achieve them — in short, in their worldview. In the end, one can speak of the specifics of a regional mentality — without, of course, detracting from the traits shared by the majority of the Russian population, which make up the national mentality as such.
So then, what are the peculiarities of the mentality of the residents of Nizhny Novgorod — a city that was once known for its merchant manners, in the Soviet era acquired all the traits of an industrial city (a closed one, at that), and in recent times has changed its appearance once again? How do residents of other cities and regions perceive us, what do they notice besides the characteristic accent — the habit of Nizhny Novgorod residents of speaking somewhat slowly (compared, say, to Muscovites), drawing out their words in a singsong manner?
Visitors to Nizhny Novgorod first of all note the distinctiveness of its landscape. The division of the city into an upper and a lower part, its location at the confluence of two major rivers — the Volga and the Oka. Geography and landscape have undoubtedly shaped the fate, history and mentality of the city's residents. The city has preserved some fragments of its ancient beauty: the The Kremlin, the view of the Strelka (the Spit), the view over the panorama of the lower city from above, and the view of the Borskaya Floodplain right from the Kremlin. The latter can rightfully be counted among the relics of Nizhny Novgorod, as a mental immersion into bygone eras: our ancestors gazed upon this same view here centuries ago. That, presumably, is why the Historic Center is one of the most attractive places in the city, both for guests and for the residents of Nizhny Novgorod themselves.
Another feature of the city, rooted in previous centuries and still leaving its mark on its appearance today, is the chaotic nature of its layout. Like Moscow, Nizhny Novgorod began to take shape on its own, without a plan, and this chaotic quality persists to this day. Even areas built up in Soviet times are notable for the fact that the houses within them are not always arranged in any sensible relation to one another. The same can be observed today. The only principle that construction tries to follow is the roads already laid down: houses are built along existing thoroughfares, while the interior space remains organized just as chaotically as ever. This trait, one might think, can be attributed to our mentality, to our traditions, to an unconscious continuity.
The absence of any habit or need to reconcile one thing with another located right next to it is very noticeable in the signage that clutters the city's streets. As is typical of the provinces, no one troubles themselves over the aesthetic side of a sign, nor over the material it is made from. In Nizhny Novgorod, the signs on shops, cafes, pharmacies and so on often look almost like cardboard. And they are utterly out of harmony with one another — not in fonts, not in color, not in concept of execution, in nothing at all. Standing side by side, they usually only further expose and emphasize each other's shortcomings. Of course, the situation has changed somewhat in recent times, in the sense that large shopping centers try to build some aesthetic coherence among the names of the stores located inside them, and chain stores consistently use their own branded signage — usually fairly well thought out, universal, and easy to combine with any surroundings. On the whole, however, a garish tastelessness and lack of thought in the design of signs and shop windows still prevails in the city. This does not appear to hinder business, though.
Speaking of business. In Nizhny Novgorod it, too, has a certain set of specific traits. First, no one tries to attract the attention of potential customers with originality or a sense of humor. Where in St. Petersburg names like "The Office Rat" (a stationery shop) or "The Anarchist" (a café) feel perfectly natural, in Nizhny Novgorod the closest thing one finds is a pet-supply store called "Four Plus a Tail" and a butcher's shop called "Raskolbas". An abundance of dull, uninformative names for shops, cafes, cinemas and so on is a characteristic trait of Nizhny Novgorod.
Second, the behavior of business owners themselves is telling. Whereas Yekaterinburg, for instance, is notable for its abundance of business magazines in which businesspeople state their opinions on any matter in plain terms and speak openly about their business strategy and life priorities, in Nizhny Novgorod business prefers to stay quiet, and if it does speak up occasionally, it does so so cautiously, so blandly, in such general phrases and evasive formulations, that visitors form a firm impression that either freedom of speech is being harshly suppressed in Nizhny Novgorod, or all businesspeople here devoutly follow Molchalin's creed that one "must not dare to have an opinion of one's own."
What else catches the eye of someone visiting our city for the first time? An abundance of litter. Residents of Nizhny Novgorod rather rarely bother themselves with using trash bins, and some even have a habit of throwing garbage straight out of the window — of an apartment, a car, a bus — whatever place they happen to be in at the moment. Visitors also notice the extremely small number of playgrounds in the courtyards, and the ones that do exist have long gone unmaintained: swings are broken, a parking area has formed between the slides, no sand has been brought to the sandbox for years, and what sand there once was has long since been scooped out by local residents for household needs...
Visitors from the capitals are dismayed by the city's lack of an extensive metro network. As for flower beds and lawns, over the past three or four years Nizhny Novgorod has improved somewhat. But again — it depends on who you compare it to. Setting aside Moscow and St. Petersburg, one might mention Kazan — a city to which we clearly fall short in this respect. In addition, all the large neighboring cities are surprised by the absence of a water park in the city. They are also surprised, however, by the abundance of cars of the GAZ brand. There is even something like a joke on this subject: in Nizhny Novgorod Region they don't even grow as much cabbage as they eat, but they produce as many "Gazelles" as they consume. And although foreign cars are seen on the city's roads far more often than "Volgas", it is true that in no other Russian city do so many GAZ-brand vehicles travel the roads.
At the Orthodox fairs held in the city, visiting participants often note in Nizhny Novgorod residents a trait such as stinginess and frugality. It is said that in other regions where similar fairs are held, people donate more often and more generously to church restoration, children's shelters and the like than in Nizhny Novgorod. But perhaps this is not so much greed as poverty? Such a number of people standing with an outstretched hand at the church porch, as we have here, is not encountered so often in other cities.
We also have a peculiar feature: tuneless musicians who cannot really play their instruments. They stand in underpasses or on the city's main street, trying to make up for their poor performance with the pushiness of the "collectors" who block passers-by's way.
As for how Nizhny Novgorod residents are perceived in terms of the political processes taking place here, we have already ceased to be seen by visitors as a "testing ground for reforms," as we were under governor Nemtsov, or a "red belt," as we were when the communist Khodyrev was elected governor, or rebellious champions of democracy, as we were during the attempts to defend Klementyev, who was elected mayor of Nizhny Novgorod but never actually took office. All of that is now in the past. Now we are known for our theater and corruption scandals. Now what's on everyone's lips is the TYuZ (Youth Theater), the sale of the Sverdlov Palace of Culture, "Nizhegorodkapstroy" (the Nizhny Novgorod Capital Construction company). And neither others nor we ourselves consider ourselves the "third capital" anymore. Everything has somehow become smaller in scale. Everything will keep changing going forward. The only question is — in which direction.
Polit-nn.ru, 26 February 2010, Alla Felt