Every time I travel out of Moscow and into the hinterlands, I realize that Vladimir Voinovich was right.In his hilarious novel "Moscow 2042," Voinovich, a writer whose sharp satires led to his emigration in 1980, parodies the tradition of Moscow as the center, the political, cultural and spiritual capital of the vast state. Under Voinovich's pen, Moscow by 2042 has become a republic onto itself (called Moskorep, following the familiar Soviet overuse of acronyms), where the socialist experiment has been drawn to its logical, depressing conclusion.Voinovich's Moscow is bureaucracy-laden and roach-ridden. It is full of lies and lines. But compared with the countryside, it is a veritable paradise.The Soviet state that Voinovich so richly satirized is officially gone. But Voinovich was right about one thing: Moscow, both Soviet and post-Soviet, is a separate world, totally distinct from the rest of the country it purports to represent. The capital is also a strange hybrid of the system from which it was born, juxtaposing some of Russia's greatest successes with the worst of its failures.Muscovites are long inured to their kiosks and brightly lit shop windows. They walk by billboards as if they have been there forever, just as they ignored the Communist slogans these ads replaced. The opening of a new five-star hotel or shopping center barely raises an eyebrow.You will not find these bright shop windows in Tver, just two hours northwest of Moscow. Practically the only ad in Ryazan, three hours southeast, is the faded description of a German newspaper on secondhand buses the city was given by Germany. In Yaroslavl, about four hours northeast, you have to look long and hard for a decent place to eat. No Kempinski, Marlboro ads, or American Bar and Grill in any of these places.This is not to say that Tver, Ryazan, and Yaroslavl are missing out. I don't mean to say that Western culture is so great and isn't it nice we can get a gourmet meal in Moscow anytime we want. Instead, just think about how sharply the mentality of a modern Muscovite must diverge from that of the Yaroslavl native.Moscow, for better or worse, is the showcase of the reformers. It is a place where their language of confidence is understood. It is one place where people have seen things change before their eyes.Out in the world beyond, it is harder for people to see how their lives have improved. They eat the same food, or worse. They farm the same land. They obey the same local lords. They listen to promises of opportunity, but little filters down.Moscow is also victim of its own status. Only here, for example, could Yury Luzhkov be the mayor he is and get away with his own form of privatization. He rules by decree as if Moscow belonged to him alone. Moscow still firmly remains the political "center," where decisions are made and decrees signed with arrogant disregard for the provinces those changes are to affect.Moscow is still just about the only place where most people want to live. Reforms are supposed to change all this, to draw people away from the "center" to the economic promise the hinterlands are supposed to hold. Instead, Moscow really is gradually becoming a country of its own.Betsy McKay will be writing on Moscow and its foreign and Russian communities. Her column replaces Moscowville.