A memory book from Moscow

"Russia is Its Own Place" is the title of Peter Normann Waage's masterpiece on Russia, which provides a rare insight into the country's history and culture, and promotes the understanding that Russia is so different from the rest of Europe. Over the past 100 years, the country has experienced the revolution in 1917, the collapse of the Soviet Union and the Yeltsin presidential term. In 1999, Putin came to power with demands for order and discipline.

Since the 1300th century, Moscow has played an increasingly important role in the country's history. For most of the time, the city has been the country's capital, and is today Europe's largest city with around 13 million inhabitants. Moscow is a city of science and culture with around 80 universities and colleges, and many beautiful churches with golden domes. The Lenin Library, with its 30 million volumes, is the country's largest. The Bolshoi Theater is the most famous, but the city has dozens of others as well as a number of concert halls and orchestras. The old castle Kremlin huser the president's office, other government institutions, churches and museums.

Three times over a period of 50 years I have been on assignments in this fascinating city. I'll share some glimpses of what I experienced.

Moscow, 1967. In the autumn of 1966, the Council of Europe's Youth Department decided to send a delegation to Moscow to negotiate with the Communist Party's youth organization, KOMSOMOL. The goal was to get an agreement that would make it easier for youth in the Soviet Union to travel to Western Europe, and for us to travel the other way. We were four youth leaders to leave – a Belgian, a British, a Dutchman and me from Norway. In the winter of 1967, we departed on an Aeroflot aircraft, and landed in a cold and cold Moscow. Then it was by car to Komsomol's youth hotel. The first thing I noticed when we were led to our rooms was that there were large and frail older women guarding all floors.

In 2000, I was struck by how dirty a lot was. This summer I was struck by how clean the city was.

At dinner at the hotel that night, we spotted a friend at another table – a very well-known Pakistani youth politician, now on assignment in Moscow. It was a pleasant reunion and our Pakistani friend invited vodka to the room. The vodka was drunk in Russian fashion, a glass of vodka that was rinsed with a glass of water and constantly "bansnski, bånnski".

The company became somewhat noisy, but then slipped into a more melancholy – not to say depressive – mood. The host fell asleep. The female KGB agent also fell asleep, while the male began to explain why he was at the party. It was an interesting confession – but whether he kept the job, I don't know.

Somewhat reduced we arrived at breakfast the following morning, and the sight of the dining table did not make matters any easier. It was the traditional Russian beetroot borscht with big chunks of beer. It should help with hangovers. I forced the soup into myself and quickly got better.

Cold Front. Then it went off to KOMSOMOL's building, where we met our negotiating counterpart. We expressed our wishes for liberalization of travel regulations. The KOMSOMOL people, on the other hand, would have restrictions. We had a few more meetings, but there was no relief. Why? The thaw that characterized the East-West relationship in the early 1960s was replaced by a cold front towards the end of the decade. Our visit to Moscow coincided with the start of this one.

One day we would go out and see The Red Square and other central parts of the city. First we got no from our babysitters. Then there was a compromise. We should get a ride, but they should join. We wanted to visit the old and venerable GUM shopping center. It was built in 1893 and was then a unique landmark in Europe. Now it was not weird supply there, and food was bad. But one place was the exciting offer for a cheap money: in the record store. Here we found most of the great Russian composers, the Red Army's famous men's choir, the leading American jazz musicians like Louis Armstrong and much more. We bought dozens of records.

The evening with the greatest experience was the Bolshoi Theater with Tchaikovsky Swanthe island, infinitely beautiful. The next day there were trains to Leningrad (today St. Petersburg). Again gray and misty. We hung in the window to see as much of the countryside as possible – it was sad with many, dilapidated buildings, showing how hopeless communist agriculture was.

Back in Moscow, each of us was invited to a home dinner by a diplomat who had served in our respective countries. I remember the apartment as if it were yesterday. Red plush on all furniture, red wallpaper on the walls, lots and lots of nice bottles on one table, and nice food on another. But it was not just the host, the diplomat with the Oslo stay behind him, who was there. There were also several young, blonde and loving young people who showed me great attention. I quickly realized that this was a sex trap I had to get out of. I played sick, got a sudden bout of abdominal pain and was driven back to the hotel. The next day we went home.

Moscow, 2000. The Soviet Union had disintegrated. Yeltsin had been president and turned upside down for the most part. Russia had a decade behind with dramatic changes in its history. Norwegian People's Aid at this time had a partner in Moscow who had invited for a work visit.

Russia had been subjected to an economic shock doctrine prescribed by the neoliberalists of the West. State industry and real estate were sold at mock price to a few oligarchs. The governance of society was poor, and the decade had ended with a financial collapse. People received neither wages nor pensions on time. Western investors had withdrawn, while the illegal export of money was draining the country of capital, the value of the ruble had fallen like a rock. It was a society in deep crisis that awaited us – we thought.

When we had arrived and landed from the airport area, I noticed an endless number of young women along the roadside. There were women in prostitution, I was told, who sold sex in the absence of other opportunities because of the impossible labor market. They were to see everywhere in the city in the days that followed.

Sumptuous. Before departure we had been told that there was a lack of food and other goods in the shops. We therefore visited some shopping malls – and big was the surprise of a large and varied supply. French cheeses and Danish sausages were no longer to be seen, but a lot of locally produced food had arrived instead. The economic crisis with the depreciation of the ruble had made it possible to replace imported delicacies with locally produced food.

We were also taken to the new urban areas. There, there was hectic activity with thousands of new apartments under construction. Most of the contractors were Turkish. Upon returning home, I found that growth in the Moscow area in 2000 was between ten and fifteen percent – something quite different from what most Western correspondents reported.

One evening we were taken to dinner. The host was a younger businessman who had been a diplomat in Denmark. He drove us into the backyard of a larger residential complex, and stopped in front of a cellar decline that recalled the decline of the potato cellar at my parents' farm in Helgeland. We wondered a lot. What was waiting in the basement? In the basement, a young headmistress was waiting to accompany us to the restaurant. A gigantic, old and beautifully decorated basement vault opened. The restaurant area was huge, with many hundreds of guests. The tables featured champagne and expensive wines, and refined dishes were served. The atmosphere was high. We had ended up at an in-house location for Moscow's young and newly empire, and were served a traditional Russian dinner where nothing was missing. It was a great evening.

We were also invited to a party performance for Russia's World War II veterans. The hall had room for a few thousand. Then they, the veterans, came most men, but also many women, some in uniform with lots of decorations on the jacket. Some of Russia's most prominent artists performed – opera singers, orchestras, dancers, circus artists and poets. It was an undertone of nationalism and pride in it all, a unique and beautiful experience. The veterans greatly appreciated the performance. Many had tearful faces as they walked.

Moscow, 2016. This summer I attended a seminar on the relationship between Russia and the Nordic countries. When we were in the pass line at the new and modern Sheremetyeo airport in Moscow, we found Julie Wilhelmsen, our foremost Russian scientist, who was to be the speaker at the seminar. She had obtained a visa and traveled in good faith, but was refused admission. She learned that in 2013 she had been declared a security risk to Russia and that the exclusion would last until 2019. She was sent on the first flight back to Oslo.

How should we in the delegation respond to this? The message from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Oslo was clear. They would not be represented at the seminar. What about us others? The organizer was the Academy of Science's historical institute, which was blamed for what had happened. It all ended with me and an experienced Norwegian Russia journalist taking part. The others would mark by staying away.

The first evening we were invited to a larger reception at the Embassy of Finland in Moscow. It is Finland's largest diplomatic station anywhere in the world. There were well over 1000 guests in a large garden in the best summer weather. Jazz orchestra, dance platform and good food and drink.

The next day, the seminar was to be held in the Russian Academy of Sciences, a large building with many thousands of employees. The seminar was successful. I listened with particular interest to the lecture by the chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee of the Federation Council. He was young, spoke excellent English, knew a lot about the Nordic countries and had just been in Oslo. He was clear in his summary: When it came to Finland, the relationship was very good, the relationship with Iceland good, but for Denmark, Norway and Sweden the relationship was simple. No wonder, I thought. After all, we have a government where no government minister has yet been on official visit to Moscow, while the foreign minister must have been at least ten times in Kiev.

Clean and tidy. When the seminar was completed, we went to see the large history exhibition, which in some Norwegian media is referred to as Putin's rewriting of history. The exhibition was powerful and complex, and in many ways impressive. We were six people with reasonably good historical insight, and none of us could understand the criticism that has emerged in Norwegian media that this is a kind of Putin revision of history. The content was mainly as we know it from our own history books. Still, two aspects of the exhibition were special: one was the great emphasis on the role of the church in the history of Russia, the other was the representation of the place of miracles in history.

We stayed close to the beautiful Gorky Park. Friday afternoon, June 24, the park was closed to the public, and the same evening, thousands of people flocked. It was the end of high schools, and the youth organization of Putin's party had invited to a youth party. It was concerts, dancing, falling in love and a giant fireworks display. The party lasted until the early morning. One relationship was particularly interesting: There was a total ban on alcohol. As we walked through the park at 11am the next morning, everything was blown – not a cigarette butt was to be seen.

Poverty. Moscow in 1967 and 2016 are the same city – and at the same time two completely different cities. In 1967, much was gray, and people's everyday lives were marked by oppression. In the summer of 2016, things were completely different. Moscow has become a magnificent and modern city, and people move like other European cities.

In 2000, I was struck by how dirty a lot was. This summer I was struck by the cleanliness. By 2000, prostitutes were everywhere. This summer I saw no one. In 2000, there was much visible fill and drunkenness. This year I saw two drunk people in five days.

But I saw only a small part of Moscow, and Moscow is not Russia. How people are doing in everyday life both in Moscow and around the country, there is no room to discuss this – but the inequality between rich and poor is great, and the vast majority of Russians live in great poverty. Unless the authorities are able to take major steps to change these conditions, the stability of society will be threatened.