Freedom of the press… in Russia

Monday, July 6, 1998

Freedom of the press… in Russia

Daily Bruin staff writer Brent Boyd is taking part in the
Student Media exchange program, and has been sent to Russia to
experience life

at Gaudeamus, a Russian student newspaper. This article is the
first

in a multi-part series exploring student journalism in
Russia.

By Brent Boyd

Daily Bruin Staff

ST. PETERSBURG, Russia – The 10 permanent workers here labor in
an office no larger than a typical American living room. This
office is not within walking distance of any major university, and
in fact it is not even affiliated with any specific school.

Yet, the 15,000 newspapers that emerge from this room every
other week allow Gaudeamus to stand as the largest student
newspaper in all of Russia – one of only two in this entire country
of 148 million people.

Upon entering Gaudeamus’ domain, you will immediately come to
the conclusion that this newspaper does not produce the quantity
nor scope of stories that the Daily Bruin and countless other
American college newspapers publish on a regular basis.

It is not a bad office, per se. In fact, it’s clean, well-lit,
and if you crank your head just a tad to the right, from its
sixth-floor windows there is a very serene view of the Fontanka
River flowing lazily past the century-old buildings of Boytsova
Street on its way to the Great Neva.

But it is not the view, the cleanliness, or lighting that first
catches the attention of visitors. Rather, it is the contents of
the office, or rather, the lack thereof.

There are posters of various languages promoting a variety of
concerts, movies and protests hung on its walls, in addition to
various pictures of Gaudeamus staffers hard at work

There is even a stash of water bottles assembled in one corner
so that the various editors, writers and visitors can quench their
thirsts and avoid the city’s notoriously bad tap water at the same
time.

But what about equipment, the essential aspect of any newspaper?
Well, that’s in short supply.

They have only four computers, one printer, two phones, one fax
machine, one scanner and little of anything else. They use the
local Photo-Mat to develop film.

Compared to the Daily Bruin – which employs hundreds of people,
has four fax machines, countless phones, three wire services, its
own darkroom and five computers for the sports department alone –
it seems impossible that this could be the office of the nation’s
largest student newspaper.

But it is, and that is a story in and of itself. This is not a
story about lack of equipment, workers or office space. Rather,
this is a tale of a nation’s lack of student journalism and what
these Russians students are trying to do to change things.

* * *

It is now 6:30 in the evening, the penultimate night of
production. The cloudy afternoon has deprived the room of the
bright sunlight that it is accustomed to during this time of night,
at this time of year. The radio is blasting (more often English
lyrics than Russian), and tea and Red Vines are in high demand.

Even if production is finished tomorrow, it remains unclear if
and when the paper will be printed – advertising and money are of
much concern here.

Staffers claim that they "try" to get the paper out every two
weeks. Whether they do or not, well, that’s a different matter.
Last November was missed entirely.

The workers here get paid next to nothing – seemingly a
worldwide prerequisite for journalism work – and yet every computer
is in use.

The workers here are given titles – design director, advertising
manager and journalist, to name a few – but these names are
meaningless.

Rather, each of these students does a little bit of everything.
More often than not, the writer of the story also serves as its
photographer. The publisher frequently finds himself editing.

On the computer, Oljesja Tcherevatch is editing a story for a
final time.

Behind her Kiril Firsov is learning how to operate Photoshop,
and underneath the poster touting the upcoming release of
"Godzilla," Tanya Storoshenko is putting the final layout
together.

In the other room, Oleg Vorobiev, the publisher, is trying to
make sure the gazeta’s economical house is in order.

They have stopped counting the number of hours they work here.
The only thing that remains for sure is that the number far
surpasses the total that they would care to remember.

"I don’t know the amount," Storoshenko, the design director and
artist, said. "Let me just say that sometimes I come in here early
one day, and then I don’t leave until late the next day."

They have been working relentlessly on this issue for the past
two weeks and can see the end is in sight – but also realize that
the process will start all over again in the coming days.

Nobody has put more time into this operation than Vorobiev. He’s
been here from the very beginning – ever since he and three other
students helped make Gaudeamus the nation’s first student paper
four years ago.

Vorobiev became the editor in chief starting with the second
issue, and now, 29 issues later, he is the publisher – but also
serves as editor, advertising agent and anything else you can think
of.

In his free time, he teaches journalism to students at St.
Petersburg State University.

Vorobiev is responsible for making sure that the paper has
enough money for production (and hopefully a little bit more to pay
his workers).

He is also the one who engineered the move into their current
office space.

It is better to pay rent, he reasoned, than remain as
second-fiddle tenants in the Russian-American Press Center (RAPIC)
– despite its inherent economical advantage.

"We just couldn’t take it anymore," he said, noting that
production nowadays takes place at all hours. "It was too hard of a
situation. We had to share space, and we could only be there during
the late hours."

But Vorobiev and everybody else realizes that without RAPIC,
Gaudeamus might still be a distant dream.

Before Gaudeamus, no collegiate paper had ever been produced
here, or for that matter anywhere in Russia. There was no support
available from the local university.

And in a country where people can barely afford the local daily
paper, there is no extra money to jumpstart an amateur
newspaper.

"It wasn’t because of politics or anything like that," Vorobiev
said. "It was just that there was no free money around to put into
it."

That’s when RAPIC stepped in. They allowed Gaudeamus to use
their computers and resources during after hours, and with a grant
from the European Journalism Network (EJN) to cover half of the
printing costs, Gaudeamus went to print.

Gaudeamus – which means "have fun while you’re young" – calls
itself the "city student newspaper," which it is, since it is
comprised of students from four different universities.

It started out as a newspaper focused on student issues –
venereal diseases, the club scene and education.

Though the design, writing and overall look of the paper has
dramatically improved in four years, the issues remain the same to
this day.

In the last issue, subjects ranged from an interview with a
tattoo artist, to computer programming advice, to a look at exams
from the professors’ point of view.

The front-page article on the issue currently in production is a
story on the different versions of graduation ceremonies seen in
high schools, universities and military colleges.

Politics, unless they deal with student issues, are ignored for
the most part and left for the city’s major newspapers to
cover.

Despite dealing with occasionally controversial issues, the only
Gaudeamus story that has even raised an eyebrow in the public was
one on marijuana a few months back – and then, it was only
complaints from the local community.

Part of the reason for this may be that the students are just
not interested in government and other such "hard-core" news.

"It seems like we have absolute freedom," Vorobiev said. "The
problem is journalists and readers don’t want to discuss political
things."

"Russian students are so concerned about themselves," he added.
"They care about their own thing."

Despite the eclectic issues that it covers, perhaps the most
interesting aspect about this newspaper is that it can even
survive.

The scale, circulation and frequency resemble that of the UCLA
student magazines – Nommo, Ha’Am and Pacific Ties, for example.

UCLA’s seven magazines rely on income from the Daily Bruin to
support them, yet there is no big daily in St. Petersburg to assist
Gaudeamus.

Support from RAPIC ceased when they vacated that organization’s
office, and the grants from EJN started to dwindle beginning with
the second issue.

Like any other firm, if Gaudeamus loses money, its operation
will cease, and Russian student journalism will no doubt take a
step backwards.

Out of necessity, Gaudeamus does anything it can to earn income
– even the bottom third of the front page is open game to the
highest bidding advertiser.

Yet, times are tough in Russia, and ad space is a difficult
sale. Less than 20 percent of Gaudeamus’ pages are comprised of
advertising (compared to 56 percent of the Daily Bruin).

As a result, the paper makes only about $900 per issue from ads
(the Bruin often earns that much from the sale of a single
advertisement, and takes in an average of $14,000 per issue). From
Gaudeamus’ $900, $750 goes to the costs of printing. Another $50
pays for a one-day rental car to deliver papers (no student here
has their own car) to stands throughout town.

Afterwards, whatever money is left over is distributed among the
employees.

Bottom line: Gaudeamus barely breaks even.

Because of this, the staff takes on added responsibilities – or
projects, they like to call them.

The income from these projects pays the office rent ($750 per
month) and can provide some extra income for the students, who,
more often than not, have no time for other jobs.

Among these projects is a travel guide to neighboring Finland, a
glossy magazine called "Rubesh" and various moonlighting
activities.

To say the least, this group does not lack entrepreneurial
skills.

The most recent project was the selling of "Gaudeamus" T-shirts
for $10 apiece.

Whoever bought one would then be allowed free access to the
various clubs that had advertised on the back of these shirts,

Most dramatically, Gaudeamus lacks the infrastructure that most
American college papers have.

They have no professional advisors, as Vorobiev, 24, is the most
experienced journalist here.

They don’t get to use university office space or equipment, and
they have no previous examples to base their development or
improvement on.

With that said, though, the future still looks bright for
Gaudeamus and other student papers in Russia.

In 1994 there were none to be found here, yet only four years
later there are two (the other is in Moscow).

The economy is struggling right now, but the nation is currently
still in the beginning stages of capitalism.

There is no longer much repression from the government, and it
is obvious that the dedication to sustain a student paper is alive
here in St. Petersburg and also in Moscow.

So why not in Vladivostok, Kiev or Irkutsk?

Maybe it’s just that these workers are among the few in Russia
that truly care about journalism.

Vorobiev, the most dedicated of all, finds that hard to
believe.

"We are growing, and we’ll be much stronger over time," he
said.

"The way things are going, I think over the next three or four
years you’ll see a lot more student journalism across the country,"
he added.

It’s difficult to doubt Vorobiev.

After all, Gaudeamus has believed in him for four years, and
it’s still alive – despite facing previously insurmountable
economic and historical odds.BRENT BOYD

Gaudeamas publisher Oleg Vorobiev, 24, holds the most recent
copy of the newspaper.

BRENT BOYD

Vorobiev works on one of the paper’s computers. Gaudeamas is
Russia’s first student newspaper.