The President of the Russian Federation is coming to Vyatka (the historical name of Kirov). Preparations are in full swing. The grass gleams with a fresh coat of green, and the leaves seem stitched neatly onto the tree branches. Under every bush sits a young man with an alert gaze. The manhole covers have been welded shut. The regional government is flooded with FSO officers (from Russia’s Federal Protective Service) and protocol staff. As m_gaidar aptly put it: these people use the phrase "ensure full compliance" just as often, and in exactly the same situations, as the rest of the country uses "for fuck’s sake". Other favorite expressions include "cut off decisively" and, my favorite, "comb this whole bacchanalia into shape". It has become extremely fashionable to call the President not "the president" but "the top official" or "the first person". You have to say it in a quiet but very weighty voice, and then it becomes clear that the speaker is privy to some grand secret. They are holding "conversations" with "undesirable elements". Residents of the main streets who own weapons are having them confiscated. In Vyatka, that’s a big deal—every other person is a hunter. I’d often heard that such an instruction and practice existed, but I thought it was made up. No—it turns out they really do confiscate them temporarily. In general, when the "federal bosses" come to Kirov, it usually drives me up the wall. It’s unbearable to watch these blocked-off roads, flashing lights, sirens, and escort vehicles. People in Kirov just stare in disbelief: the roads here are half-empty as it is, there are no traffic jams. Why can’t they just get in their cars and go? Does it all really have to come with wailing sirens, quacking horns, and shouting through a megaphone? The cops look especially ridiculous blocking off streets that are already empty. And in 95% of cases, the rush is only because they’ve scheduled too many events and there’s no time left for the proverbial barbecue. Still, the President’s visit is good news for Vyatka, and a major victory for Belykh. First, all the neighboring governors are choking with envy. Getting Medved (a colloquial nickname for Dmitry Medvedev, literally “the Bear”) to come is a very big deal; there are plenty of governors he’ll never visit. So lobbying for a presidential visit is the region’s main sport and the great interregional competition. Bringing Putin in is a big deal too. I still haven’t figured out, by the way, which is the bigger coup. Second, for Vyatka this is genuinely a historic event: the last—and first—time the country’s leader was here was in eighteen-whatever. Around here they like to tell the insulting story of how Brezhnev once passed through, but never even stepped out onto the platform where the local officials had lined up at attention. Third, by an unofficial but widely accepted tradition, the President hands out money for something. The regional authorities are supposed to identify the main problem and ask for funding for that. The practical benefit is obvious—the region is poor. And fourth, it’s a great jolt for this local sleepy kingdom. At least it forced the city authorities to "find reserves"—touch up the paint here, patch something there. They filled in the biggest potholes in the roads. Sure, it’s a Potemkin village, but still—better than nothing. Besides, it immediately became clear who is capable of working in emergency mode and who isn’t. So even if Medved bails at the last minute, the preparations will still have been useful.