Kargaaad! An adventure in Georgia: Saturday November 3rd: Stalin Museum

This weekend, I decided to visit the Stalin museum. Situated in the city of Gori, it was a great building dedicated to the most famous Georgian of all time. The museum is famous for being slanted towards Stalin, who is seen as a hero of the people in Gori.

The city is nestled in the plains a few hours west of Tbilisi. The surrounding hillsides are bare and dun. Early November weather is cold with grey clouds blocking out the sun. The buildings were all built cement square block common during the communist era. Businesses are on the bottom floors, and apartments make up the top. Instead of painting the otherwise dull buildings in bright colors, like Batumi or Tbilisi, Gori embraces the brown and the grey colors. From far away, Gori blends in with its surrounding hillsides. The residents walked quietly down the streets, conservatively dressed. From what I have seen, I imagine the city motto as: "Don't stick out."

The museum itself is a great square structure, reminding one of the Dodge's palace in Venice. Having little ornamentation, the veneer of the museum predicts a cold interior which is exactly what is in store for the museum's patrons. In the front of the museum, under a columned shelter, lies Stalin's childhood home. Made of brick and mortar, his home shows the world his humble origin, located in the town center in the middle of a park.

Inside the museum are many marble busts, statues, portraits, engravings and embroidery, all with Stalin's image. My favorite medium: traditional rugs of various peoples from central Asia. Each rug has Stalin's face in the center, with traditional design patterns around the edges. Contrary to a persistent belief that Soviet times were culturally oppressive, Soviet policy was not Russo-centered. The Soviet Union was an attempt to forge a new society of many peoples, and locals were encouraged to embrace their heritage. These rugs retain their cultural uniqueness, simultaneously giving praise to the Soviet cult leader. Similar examples could be see in other tributes to Stalin: Wood carvings, jewelry, porcelain all had regional uniqueness.

Aside from a security guard in the front, I didn't see a single man working in that museum. Most of the employees were past middle age. They would conduct tours in Russian or Georgian, or occasionally English. Those that weren't conducting tours were hover ghost-like around the rooms. Always watching you to see if your going to touch anything!

The rooms are of walled with marble, and with floors tiled. Pale winter sunlight filtered through smoky glass windows, providing more light than the yellow incandescent lights would yield. The museum was kept cold. Voices barely rose above a whisper.

The displays looked as if they haven't been changed in decades. Faded brown, gold and red colors framed the numerous portraits, pictures, and memorabilia. Browned paper under the displays were first in Russian, followed by Georgian, and sometimes English.

From the first few chambers of the museum, followed the death mask room. A striking contrast to the previous three, the room was the most memorable by far. On entering the round room, you walk along the walls up to an elevated platform. There, laying in the middle of the room, is a bronzed death mask of Stalin. The room is dimly lit, no windows and only two doors. If the museum is quiet, this room is dead silent. Thick rich red, almost purple fabric lines the walls and ceiling, swallowing all sound. I was so quiet, you could hear your breakfast digest and your breathing.

In that room I stood for two whole minutes, transfixed on the bronzed figure slumbering. All the while, I was being watched by one of the specters. From the other room, through the doorway.

At the front of the exhibit, like in many museums, was a guestbook. Many of the entries were written by upset and disgusted guests. Phrases like "This is a lie!" and "War criminal" were scrawled in angry lettering. They were angered by the museum's lack of truth. The museum ignored the atrocities, and that the museum painted him as a hero. Though technically they are right, I don't believe that is the purpose of this museum is to tell 'the truth'. Part Stalin's élan was to capture peoples affections and admiration. To the patrons of the museum, Gorians, and many other people, they still believe Stalin is a hero. They cherish their beloved local hero, and are entitled to show him as a charitable figure. The museum opinion is a bizarre, eerie opinion but exists nonetheless. The rest us must acknowledge their opinion, and respect the museum as it is. The point of the museum is for one to observe the man, his background and more importantly, the influence he still carries over us all.