Russia’s unending hate reinforced my memory of different times I’ve spent in Kazakhstan, St. Petersburg, Moscow.

Once, a Muscovite journalist told me:

“We are not capitalists with unlimited money to throw around like Americanskys.”

An empty taxi grudgingly took me after stiffing me repeatedly. The driver in passable English: “We avoid Americans. Much trouble. No understand them even they use little dictionaries. In school we must take foreign language — most English — still difficult understand Americans. They talk too fast.”

In the Bolshoi an attendant tugged my coat. Cold, I kept it on. He then barred my way. Forbidden to keep wearing it, I was told: “People here accept authority. We obey rules automatically.”

Another: “For only a few rubles I can sit in the box which once held the czar.”

Me: “How often do you come here?” Answer: “This first time.”

On the outside, pleasant. Inside the hotel, something else. Leave a Kleenex crumpled in your luggage.

Return and it’s crumpled differently.

My hotel lacked elevators opening onto two unlisted floors.

Reportedly, stored there is wire tap equipment. I was warned to speak about nothing inside my room.

Attendant: “This hotel is very modern. Telephones in every room. You can ring every place direct. And calls are free.”

Yeah, but you can’t reach anyone. The Soviet Union has lots of unlisted numbers. Her reply? “Yes, but we have the phones.”

Forget décor. My Iron Curtain room did showers but no curtains, sinks minus stoppers, room service that didn’t answer.

“But,” she said, “A new hotel’s going up now equipped with every luxury facility.”

Me: “Will it have a swimming pool?”

She: “Certainly not — but it will have a concert hall.”

My shampoo girl on where she holidays: “Crimea. Sochi in the Black Sea where leaders have a house and many of the presidium vacation.

Every Russian goes to the Black Sea, though it is warm temperature and not refreshing to swim in.

It’s common practice for us to go into the water in bra and panties.”

Streets had automatic vending machines.

Places also had one glass available for everyone’s use.

I was introduced to a local entertainer who’d fashioned some dolls in his image.

If any sold, did he get a percentage from what those earned?

Answer: “Nyet.” Has he fan clubs? “Nyet.” His employment comes with a star dressing room? “Nyet.”

So what’s the symbol of his elevated status? “I have a car.”

Another person dared whisper about the space race:

“What good is it? We should first progress on the ground. Much greater achievement if they got around to taking care of us — the simple working people. Give us housing, clothes. Always they promise. Even repeat it. But how long must we wait before they fulfill their promise?”

Belarus diplomat: “It’s a rotten government.” KGB officer: “You’re under arrest.” Diplomat: “Why?” KGB guy: “Because you said it’s a rotten government.”

Diplomat: “I never said what government.” KGB: “No good. There is only one rotten government and you know it!”

Only in Putin’s neighborhood, kids, only in Putin’s neighborhood.