We went to the art center area of Vinzavod, a Soho-like area in Moscow. We had a lot of fun looking through the various galleries and cafes.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Day at Vinzavod
We went to the art center area of Vinzavod, a Soho-like area in Moscow. We had a lot of fun looking through the various galleries and cafes.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
ICBMs and Playstructures
Today, we felt normal. The weather was in low 50s and we took Sasha to meet some friends at a playground near an Olympic stadium. Of course, this being Russia, there is no "normal," so the playground was situated (as you can see from the photos above) next to a Soviet Red Army museum of armaments. On display? Tanks, Red Army jets and oh yeah, four ICBMs. Hopefully, all decommissioned as there were lots of little boys scrambling up the gun turrets of the tanks. Very nice.
We had a lovely time in the fresh air and sunshine and although it's still cold here, the whiff of spring was finally in the air. That and the time change: yes, we are finally on daylight savings. We are now 11 hours ahead of PST, instead of 10.
Moscow River v. Paris' Seine
Larry: What's up Alison? Tell me about your trip to the Uruguayuan ambassador's house.
Alison: In in effort to meet more English speakers, I went to the International Women's Group of Moscow general meeting, held at the ambassador's house. It was a faded, old mansion in a Beaux Art part of town. I was jealous because you got to go to American ambassador's house on Monday. This was not the same experience, lots of women jammed into a too small ballroom. So, see any good sites in Moscow this week?
Larry: I think you were with me, but I'd say the highlight was discovering a glass covered pedestrian bridge across the Moscow River on Saturday. The river banks reminded me of Paris--
Alison: Hold on, Paris? How about Petersburg?
Larry: How about both cities?
Alison: It was a nice view, and a part of the city you rarely see photographed, which is a shame. The view was so nice, we walked across the river *again* that evening sans Le Sash. At night, with the smokestacks hidden, it did look vaguely Parisienne.
Larry: We should go back and take pictures, so our readers can see it, too.
Alison: In in effort to meet more English speakers, I went to the International Women's Group of Moscow general meeting, held at the ambassador's house. It was a faded, old mansion in a Beaux Art part of town. I was jealous because you got to go to American ambassador's house on Monday. This was not the same experience, lots of women jammed into a too small ballroom. So, see any good sites in Moscow this week?
Larry: I think you were with me, but I'd say the highlight was discovering a glass covered pedestrian bridge across the Moscow River on Saturday. The river banks reminded me of Paris--
Alison: Hold on, Paris? How about Petersburg?
Larry: How about both cities?
Alison: It was a nice view, and a part of the city you rarely see photographed, which is a shame. The view was so nice, we walked across the river *again* that evening sans Le Sash. At night, with the smokestacks hidden, it did look vaguely Parisienne.
Larry: We should go back and take pictures, so our readers can see it, too.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Some basic economic indicator thoughts
Our trip to buy Passover matza lead to yet another adventure. We located a synagogue guarded by Uzi-toting guards and metal detectors with a matza depot around the corner. The level of security at the syngogue was on par with places I've seen in Israel. I'm used to seeing metal detectors and guards at clearly Jewish establishments. But the Uzis and the bullet proof vests were a bit alarming.
Security aside, when I went to buy the matza, I found out it was about $1.25 for a kilo box. That's the cheapest I have ever seen. The price even surprised my mom.
I am frequently asked about prices here in the Russian capital. Moscow has the distinction of being the most expensive city in the world. But I would say the prices are the most *confusing* in the world. Some things are heavily subsidized, others are tarrifed, some just make no sense. A brief sampling:
Bread - good stuff we buy at the stand near the Metro: 30c a loaf
Milk - also good Russian brands: $1/liter
Gasoline - 50c/liter, so that's less than $2/gallon
Cappuccino, nice place: $10
Cappuccino, not so nice place like a Starbucks: $5-6
Latte, McDonalds: $2, small cup
Apples: $4/pound.
Sandwich, crappy quality: $10-15
Beer, decent Russian brand: $1 bottle (and may I say, a BIG bottle)
Vodka, - all I can say: cheaper than Coke, a lot cheaper
Candy bars, all imported: $1
Cheese: Russian brand $5/pound; cheddar: $8 half pound.
Copy of In Style magazine: $25
I have not seen Oprah magazine here, so can't report on that.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Ten things you didn't know about us
1. We shipped personal items from the US before we left on Feb. 7. The box arrived a week later, but customs here takes it time before releasing it. Finally, last week, they rejected the box, and sent it back to the US because it had a "prescription" in it. As far as we can tell, that prescription was a box of sudafed. We hand carried our actual prescriptions with us. What a country, eh?
2. Our computer was down for two days over the weekend. We went to McDonald's to use the internet.
3. Larry's teaching schedule changes about as much as the weather. He had a class with 25 students last Thursday, then a class with one student last Friday. Stay tuned for latest enrollment figures.
4. There is an H & M here--the Swedish department store--that opened a few weeks ago. It is part of a large, Western-style mall, that has two Starbucks and a Gap. We went there yesterday. In H & M, we met an Orthodox Jewish couple shopping. They directed us to a Jewish Community Center today where we bought matzas at an outdoor booth. How many other people have gotten their matzas through a chance encounter at H & M?
5. It is snowing again tonight. Spring training has been canceled.
6. Larry went to a party at the U.S. Ambassador's home last night. The party was in honor of the Fulbright program, which has been in Russia for 35 years. The Ambassador's house has a name, Spaso House. Parties at houses with names are generally good, and this one was no exception. Larry met the ambassador. Sasha met his wife a few weeks ago in line at the grocery store at the embassy.
7. We went to the Australian Film Festival last weekend. Unlike other film festivals we've been to in the US, there was no introduction, and no rousing rendition of "Waltzing Mathilda." Just an entertaining film about Aborigines in English with Russian subtitles. This weekend we may go to the Irish Film Festival.
8. Sasha said that she likes living in Russia because it's too cold here for there to be any alligators and crocodiles.
9. Alison went the famed Moscow Flea Market on Saturday, and picked up a few souvenirs. In a snowstorm.
10. In front of Red Square, you can get your picture taken with actors dressed up as Lenin and Stalin and other Russian leaders.
We were at an indoor mall near there on Sunday, and Stalin was taking his lunch break at the food court.
2. Our computer was down for two days over the weekend. We went to McDonald's to use the internet.
3. Larry's teaching schedule changes about as much as the weather. He had a class with 25 students last Thursday, then a class with one student last Friday. Stay tuned for latest enrollment figures.
4. There is an H & M here--the Swedish department store--that opened a few weeks ago. It is part of a large, Western-style mall, that has two Starbucks and a Gap. We went there yesterday. In H & M, we met an Orthodox Jewish couple shopping. They directed us to a Jewish Community Center today where we bought matzas at an outdoor booth. How many other people have gotten their matzas through a chance encounter at H & M?
5. It is snowing again tonight. Spring training has been canceled.
6. Larry went to a party at the U.S. Ambassador's home last night. The party was in honor of the Fulbright program, which has been in Russia for 35 years. The Ambassador's house has a name, Spaso House. Parties at houses with names are generally good, and this one was no exception. Larry met the ambassador. Sasha met his wife a few weeks ago in line at the grocery store at the embassy.
7. We went to the Australian Film Festival last weekend. Unlike other film festivals we've been to in the US, there was no introduction, and no rousing rendition of "Waltzing Mathilda." Just an entertaining film about Aborigines in English with Russian subtitles. This weekend we may go to the Irish Film Festival.
8. Sasha said that she likes living in Russia because it's too cold here for there to be any alligators and crocodiles.
9. Alison went the famed Moscow Flea Market on Saturday, and picked up a few souvenirs. In a snowstorm.
10. In front of Red Square, you can get your picture taken with actors dressed up as Lenin and Stalin and other Russian leaders.
We were at an indoor mall near there on Sunday, and Stalin was taking his lunch break at the food court.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Russian circus goes ape with its Jewish wedding
Remember we had posted a few weeks back our reaction to the Russian circus that had orangutans marrying in a Jewish ceremony? Looks like we made have broken the story or were ahead of the curve (some debate about that) right here on the Sokoloff blog
Check out:
http://jta.org/news/article/2009/03/19/1003851/jewish-orangutans-star-in-mock-wedding-in-russian-circus#albumimage#albumimage
Check out:
http://jta.org/news/article/2009/03/19/1003851/jewish-orangutans-star-in-mock-wedding-in-russian-circus#albumimage#albumimage
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Watch out for Sidewalk Drivers. Capitalism Thrives Here
Before I left for Russia, one of my students in San Jose wanted to let
me know that I was going to a different place. The student, an emigre
from the former Soviet Union, warned me that cars drive on the
sidewalks in Moscow. I envisioned BMWs doing hairpin turns at high
speeds, barrelling down on frightened walkers. It didn't turn out that
way. But cars do indeed drive on the sidewalk, and I see them several
times a day.
To understand this, you have to know that the sidewalks are not the
same as in the US. Here, sidewalks are extensions of the road, often
made out of the same pavement, and wider. They are still separated by
curbs, but the Russian DMV apparently didn't send out the message that
you don't park on sidewalks. In front of my apartment as I write this,
two cars are parked on the sidewalk, and it's a similar scene
throughout the city.
When it's time to move their cars, most sidewalk drivers head back into
the street. But a few times a day there's a driver who decides the
easiest way to get back to the road is to keep driving on the sidewalk,
at a very slow speed. So I cast a wary eye on every car I see, and
Sasha and Alison do the same. If I were to score this as an Olympic event, the most points would go to sidewalk drivers in SUVs, with cellphone in hand and cigarette in
mouth. Most likely a taxi driver. And there are a lot of taxi drivers.
Maybe because of the sidewalk driving, or due to the very fast drivers
here, Moscow does have one pedestrian benefit--underground pedestrian
underpasses that help us cross busy intersections. One that we pass
through daily to Sasha's school is under a road known as the Garden Ring.
This underpass often attracts
musicians playing for their supper. We have been treated to accordion
players, guitarists, and our favorite, a musician who plays the teeth
of a saw with a bow. Tonight a guitarist was playing the theme to "Love
Story."
Many of these underpasses have shops in them. This one at the Garden
Ring does not, so the acoustic quality is high and it adds to the
journey.
Even if it's "Love Story."
Capitalism is alive and well here in the former USSR. We're most aware
of it in the small businesses that are everywhere. Entrepreneurs set up
impromptu stands in the subway (we're guessing that it is illegal)
selling books and socks. Near transit stops, there are often 10 to 12
elderly women on snowy sidewalks selling different types of clothes.
One favorite vendor near our house sells a contraption straight out
of a Ronco late night infomercial, for cutting vegetables--it slices, it
dices, and can be yours for $19.95 if you call now. Whenever that
merchant is out there, there is a pile of shaved carrots and potatos
for shoppers to inspect.
More stores line the underpasses near the subway stations, selling
toiletries, pastries, candy, water and cellphones. Above ground near
the same metros stops, there are usually a number of food stands in
enclosed buildings--roasted chicken, baked potatos with toppings,
blinis. A favorite of Sasha and mine is one selling uzbecki bread hot
out of the oven for 12 rubles, which is about 40 cents. It's a close to
the hot bagel experience as you get here. Although I did manage to
order a bagel at a cafe a few weeks ago--sadly, it looked and tasted
like a hamburger bun with a hole cut through the top section.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A taste of Soviet architecture
After relentless grey, the sun came out today and I scrapped plans to visit a museum. Instead, I decided to meander aimlessly around the city's Garden Ring. After a 20 minute walk from school, I glanced up to see the "Ministry of External Affairs" - the name alone gave me creeps. This snarling, 27 story Soviet skyscraper combines Russian Baroque and Gothic styles. Think Met Life building in New York on Pregnazone.
It turned out to be one of the city's famous seven sisters - skyscrapers built during Stalin's last years, using the technology which built the pre-War American skyscrapers. The building's logo - a three-story hammer and sickle superimposed over the globe - made me think Stalin might have doodled it on the back of cocktail napkin during the Yalta talks. When plotting world domination, you need an expressive logo.
For more on the Seven Sisters and Ministry of External Affairs, go to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Sisters_(Moscow)
It turned out to be one of the city's famous seven sisters - skyscrapers built during Stalin's last years, using the technology which built the pre-War American skyscrapers. The building's logo - a three-story hammer and sickle superimposed over the globe - made me think Stalin might have doodled it on the back of cocktail napkin during the Yalta talks. When plotting world domination, you need an expressive logo.
For more on the Seven Sisters and Ministry of External Affairs, go to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Sisters_(Moscow)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Smoky & Grey City
Week Five - starting the blog today with the weather: Snowing again with temperatures hovering around 0 degrees. When it first started snowing I thought it was soot from the ubiquitous smokestacks encircling the city (no pesky EPA here), but nope, it's just darn cold. I forgot that March is still winter outside of California.
At this point in our excursion, I am well settled in as are Sasha and Larry. But I am experiencing my first real pangs of California homesickness, likely brought on by relen-tless grey weather and snow. I miss the fresh air, flowers, green grass and smoke-free restaurants.
Perhaps Spring is approaching in Moscow. After all, enough snow has melted to reveal the most astonishing number of cigarette butts I've even seen. With the 4th largest population of smokers in the world, these folks don't have to worry about the city's chimneys: they *are* the city's chimneys. I noticed yesterday at the store that of American cigarettes are $1 per pack. No wonder everyone smokes - it's cheap and readily available, even on the menus at restaurants. I get the cheap vodka and Russian beer - it's a mighty long winter - but cigarettes? How does that help anybody?
Today, I wandered around the Kitay Gorod neighborhood with no particular agenda other than to get out of the apartment after a blissful morning of organizing, gleaning and purging the apartment. Fun for a few hours, but then the cabin fever kicks in and it's time to explore.
This excursion finally allowed me to visit Moscow's largest synagogue. It was just lovely and because I am a woman and my head was covered, I was able to wander around the downstairs and upstairs where I sat for ten minutes examining the artwork on the ceiling and beema. It was fun to see the "tzadakah" box written in cyrillic as "tzadakah" You'd think it would have said something like "charity" in Russian. I also bought my first Matruskha doll at the gift store. Interlocking Chagall paintings, handmade and very folk-artsy, my fav combination. I looked for a home version of the Tzedakah in cyrillic, but no such luck.
I'm at the point in the trip where things are really slowing down. We're seen all the "must haves" except for the Kremlin inside tour. The restaurant food, even places I like are now tasting pretty bland (what, herring and beet salad...again!) So now I spend a lot of time just observing people and the city's going-ons.
English speakers are a fun and rare surprise. Today, I sat in Le Pain near the US Embassy and watched a young, bespectacled diplomat-y type speaking Russian with a broad American accent, I thought, hmmm. When his American colleague whisked into the front door and starting speaking English to him, I knew I had him pegged.
-- Alison
At this point in our excursion, I am well settled in as are Sasha and Larry. But I am experiencing my first real pangs of California homesickness, likely brought on by relen-tless grey weather and snow. I miss the fresh air, flowers, green grass and smoke-free restaurants.
Perhaps Spring is approaching in Moscow. After all, enough snow has melted to reveal the most astonishing number of cigarette butts I've even seen. With the 4th largest population of smokers in the world, these folks don't have to worry about the city's chimneys: they *are* the city's chimneys. I noticed yesterday at the store that of American cigarettes are $1 per pack. No wonder everyone smokes - it's cheap and readily available, even on the menus at restaurants. I get the cheap vodka and Russian beer - it's a mighty long winter - but cigarettes? How does that help anybody?
Today, I wandered around the Kitay Gorod neighborhood with no particular agenda other than to get out of the apartment after a blissful morning of organizing, gleaning and purging the apartment. Fun for a few hours, but then the cabin fever kicks in and it's time to explore.
This excursion finally allowed me to visit Moscow's largest synagogue. It was just lovely and because I am a woman and my head was covered, I was able to wander around the downstairs and upstairs where I sat for ten minutes examining the artwork on the ceiling and beema. It was fun to see the "tzadakah" box written in cyrillic as "tzadakah" You'd think it would have said something like "charity" in Russian. I also bought my first Matruskha doll at the gift store. Interlocking Chagall paintings, handmade and very folk-artsy, my fav combination. I looked for a home version of the Tzedakah in cyrillic, but no such luck.
I'm at the point in the trip where things are really slowing down. We're seen all the "must haves" except for the Kremlin inside tour. The restaurant food, even places I like are now tasting pretty bland (what, herring and beet salad...again!) So now I spend a lot of time just observing people and the city's going-ons.
English speakers are a fun and rare surprise. Today, I sat in Le Pain near the US Embassy and watched a young, bespectacled diplomat-y type speaking Russian with a broad American accent, I thought, hmmm. When his American colleague whisked into the front door and starting speaking English to him, I knew I had him pegged.
-- Alison
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Hag Purim
I forgot to get a costume for Sasha, but even if I had, she would have been a drab Esther compared with her very festive classmates. Note the beautiful headresses and dresses on the little girls. These kids take their Purim play *very* seriously!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Functional Illiteracy; Sasha goes to School; Parental Adventures
Larry's posting today, with Alison editing.
We've been asked how our Russian language studies are coming along. Recent food purchases illustrate our language prowess.
Last night, we purchased potato pancakes, except when we got home we discovered in a taste test that we'd really bought fried liver patties. We were hungry after a hard winter's day, and suffered no ill effects from eating them.
Sasha is now enrolled in a school at the JCC. She has been attending for a week and a half. She is one of three Sashas in her class (one boy, two girls). They call her Sashenka to distinguish her.
One of the more intriguing aspects is she has a weekly chess class. The graying, bearded chess master explains (in Russian), moves to the students via a giant felt chessboard on the wall. Students get poker chits for the right answer. Alison, the chess player in the family, thinks he was describing various strategies for protecting the king. Or maybe it was the best use of the bishop, but it was a little hard to tell what exactly his point was as the kids called out moves. Our Sasha said it is boring. A few days later, however, she asked Alison to teach her how to play chess, and they have been playing at night.
The school is 45 minutes away, and it involves lots of walking and transferring of crowded subway trains. But Russians on the trains almost always get up and give Sasha a seat.
The walking part of the journey to school often comes to a halt when Sasha hears music from a loudspeaker, because it means it is time to do an impromptu dance in the middle of the sidewalk. Russians don't smile much, but they smile at Sasha and her antics.
Sasha takes her academic subjects in the morning and the electives in the afternoon. She is served two lunches a day (we don't understand this, it's sort of like the Hobbits'second breakfast) and a snack, including a cup of tea for each child. Some of her classmates and a few teachers speak English, but mostly she hears Russian all day. In school, Sasha struts around in ballet slippers. On the way home, she wears her heavy duty boots so she can splash in as many puddles as possible.
What are her parents doing with all their time now that Sasha is in school? Besides buying fried liver disguised as potato pancakes, we are exploring Moscow, seeing interesting neighborhoods, and visiting museums. Yesterday, we went to the Pushkin Museum, a storehouse of incredible impressionist masterpieces. We thought we'd seen the best stuff at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, but the Pushkin was comparable. Rooms full of Matisses, Renoirs, Chagalls, Degas, and Cezannes. Plus a few Goyas and Dutch masters.
Alison went to her first meeting today of the American Women's Organization, Moscow chapter. Most of the expats she met are from Texas, and have husbands who work in the oil, gas and mineral industries. They immediately embraced Alison, and took her to an
out-of-the way, chic French restaurant for lunch. The menus were in English, and she did not order liver. They have invited us to a Saturday night Daring Dining group, which tries new restaurants.
We've been asked how our Russian language studies are coming along. Recent food purchases illustrate our language prowess.
Last night, we purchased potato pancakes, except when we got home we discovered in a taste test that we'd really bought fried liver patties. We were hungry after a hard winter's day, and suffered no ill effects from eating them.
Sasha is now enrolled in a school at the JCC. She has been attending for a week and a half. She is one of three Sashas in her class (one boy, two girls). They call her Sashenka to distinguish her.
One of the more intriguing aspects is she has a weekly chess class. The graying, bearded chess master explains (in Russian), moves to the students via a giant felt chessboard on the wall. Students get poker chits for the right answer. Alison, the chess player in the family, thinks he was describing various strategies for protecting the king. Or maybe it was the best use of the bishop, but it was a little hard to tell what exactly his point was as the kids called out moves. Our Sasha said it is boring. A few days later, however, she asked Alison to teach her how to play chess, and they have been playing at night.
The school is 45 minutes away, and it involves lots of walking and transferring of crowded subway trains. But Russians on the trains almost always get up and give Sasha a seat.
The walking part of the journey to school often comes to a halt when Sasha hears music from a loudspeaker, because it means it is time to do an impromptu dance in the middle of the sidewalk. Russians don't smile much, but they smile at Sasha and her antics.
Sasha takes her academic subjects in the morning and the electives in the afternoon. She is served two lunches a day (we don't understand this, it's sort of like the Hobbits'second breakfast) and a snack, including a cup of tea for each child. Some of her classmates and a few teachers speak English, but mostly she hears Russian all day. In school, Sasha struts around in ballet slippers. On the way home, she wears her heavy duty boots so she can splash in as many puddles as possible.
What are her parents doing with all their time now that Sasha is in school? Besides buying fried liver disguised as potato pancakes, we are exploring Moscow, seeing interesting neighborhoods, and visiting museums. Yesterday, we went to the Pushkin Museum, a storehouse of incredible impressionist masterpieces. We thought we'd seen the best stuff at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, but the Pushkin was comparable. Rooms full of Matisses, Renoirs, Chagalls, Degas, and Cezannes. Plus a few Goyas and Dutch masters.
Alison went to her first meeting today of the American Women's Organization, Moscow chapter. Most of the expats she met are from Texas, and have husbands who work in the oil, gas and mineral industries. They immediately embraced Alison, and took her to an
out-of-the way, chic French restaurant for lunch. The menus were in English, and she did not order liver. They have invited us to a Saturday night Daring Dining group, which tries new restaurants.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Mapt Madness in Mockba
This is the back of our building with the combo hockey rink/basketball court.
A visit to the Cat Theatre on Inter'nal Women's Day
Happy International Women's Day, which is a big holiday in Russia. This is another three-day weekend, to celebrate all women in Russia, not just mothers.For the past five days, flowers (mostly tulips and roses) have been on sale and carried around everywhere. It's added color to Moscow in winter. Sasha was handed some free yelow tulips this morning at the subway station.
The high point of the day for all of us was the noon performance of the Cat Theatre, a Moscow institution. There were cats on skateboards, high wires, balancing on pipes and pushing strollers and wagons. Some cats were perched to appear to wear angel wings, or as petals of a twirling flower. It was a little like a Vegas show or the Ziegfield Follies. Mostly the cats were in the background as clowns took center stage. There were two dogs in the show, and at least a dozen cats.
After our earlier experience at the circus on Feb. 21, we were wondering if we'd be made uncomfortable by anything. But it was all in good taste. There was another wedding, but this time non-denominational.
When the show ended, Sasha was invited on stage to dance with the other kids.
In our police blotter section, all is well. The officer has been contacted by a Russian speaker from Larry's program and told that we registered correctly. We shouldn't see him again.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Police visit Larry
I was getting ready to go out food shopping this afternoon. Alison and Sasha were out. I don't know why, but I opened the door when the doorbell rang.
Standing at our front door was a young, uniformed policeman named Michael. I didn't know his name then, but it was clear he was a cop --he pointed to a patch on his shoulder indicating that he was from the Moscow Police Department.
Uh oh.
I don't know more than a few words of Russian. I can read signs, but I can't hold a conversation. And even though I make mental notes to myself to get a tutor, learn a few more stock phrases, I never get around to it. Life in Moscow is exhausting enough.
At first with officer Michael, I used my stock phrase, "Ya neeznayo,"
which means "I don't know." He then said a few things to me in Russian.
Uh oh.
I went to get my Russian phrasebook and passport -- except I didn't have my passport.
Uh oh.
I had dropped it off earlier in the day when I went to have our visas extended. But, I did have copies of all my paperwork. So I gave them to him. At the same time, I was fumbling through my phrasebook, and found "I don't speak Russian." I think he'd already figured that out.
He took the phrasebook from me and started looking for a word he wanted to say in English. Turns out, he knew some English. I went back to get my phone so I could make some phone calls. For reasons I don't quite comprehend, I tell him I'd be back in
a minute, "Uno momento, uno momento," I said repeatedly. Why was I speaking to a Russian police officer in Spanish?? Brain lock?
Returning to the door with my phone, Michael by now had found the English word he wanted to know: "landlord," as in who is your landlord? He also asked where I worked and who lived with me.
At that point, I decided this would be a good time to call a phone friend. I went through several numbers before I got through to Dave, an American who works as a television cameraman here and speaks Russian. I explained the situation to Dave and let him speak him speak to the cop. Dave spoke for awhile and I then was debriefed by what was happening. Someone in the building had wondered about us, and the police had come because we weren't registered with them at this address.
When a person arrives in Russia, they need to register with the authorities within 72 hours. We had done so within our first day of arriving here, but now questions were being raised if we'd done it correctly.
After speaking with Dave, Michael left me his phone number and asked me to call him when I had it all figured out--I think. I made a few more calls, and it looks like this whole thing will be resolved, somehow or another. Michael is probably going to return. I'm told this is his normal neighborhood beat. And that this is a normal situation for someone new to Russia.
Alison and I wanted to have adventure in Russia. This wasn't what we had in mind.
Standing at our front door was a young, uniformed policeman named Michael. I didn't know his name then, but it was clear he was a cop --he pointed to a patch on his shoulder indicating that he was from the Moscow Police Department.
Uh oh.
I don't know more than a few words of Russian. I can read signs, but I can't hold a conversation. And even though I make mental notes to myself to get a tutor, learn a few more stock phrases, I never get around to it. Life in Moscow is exhausting enough.
At first with officer Michael, I used my stock phrase, "Ya neeznayo,"
which means "I don't know." He then said a few things to me in Russian.
Uh oh.
I went to get my Russian phrasebook and passport -- except I didn't have my passport.
Uh oh.
I had dropped it off earlier in the day when I went to have our visas extended. But, I did have copies of all my paperwork. So I gave them to him. At the same time, I was fumbling through my phrasebook, and found "I don't speak Russian." I think he'd already figured that out.
He took the phrasebook from me and started looking for a word he wanted to say in English. Turns out, he knew some English. I went back to get my phone so I could make some phone calls. For reasons I don't quite comprehend, I tell him I'd be back in
a minute, "Uno momento, uno momento," I said repeatedly. Why was I speaking to a Russian police officer in Spanish?? Brain lock?
Returning to the door with my phone, Michael by now had found the English word he wanted to know: "landlord," as in who is your landlord? He also asked where I worked and who lived with me.
At that point, I decided this would be a good time to call a phone friend. I went through several numbers before I got through to Dave, an American who works as a television cameraman here and speaks Russian. I explained the situation to Dave and let him speak him speak to the cop. Dave spoke for awhile and I then was debriefed by what was happening. Someone in the building had wondered about us, and the police had come because we weren't registered with them at this address.
When a person arrives in Russia, they need to register with the authorities within 72 hours. We had done so within our first day of arriving here, but now questions were being raised if we'd done it correctly.
After speaking with Dave, Michael left me his phone number and asked me to call him when I had it all figured out--I think. I made a few more calls, and it looks like this whole thing will be resolved, somehow or another. Michael is probably going to return. I'm told this is his normal neighborhood beat. And that this is a normal situation for someone new to Russia.
Alison and I wanted to have adventure in Russia. This wasn't what we had in mind.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Our Kosmo-Star
Larry:
We are going to the Cat Circus on Sunday. There are supposed to be
dogs in it as well. A report will follow.
Today, I got lost in Kitai Gorod, the section of town that I will
teach in. I ended up on a lively street, Maroseyka ul., lined with
shops and restaurants. We'll go back to explore. I also stumbled into
the afternoon service at the Grand Synagogue, an old synagogue that is
still going strong. Two security guards let me in. I spoke Hebrew to
the people inside, because my Russian has a long ways to go.
This was a good day to get lost. The sun was out after a long absence.
Evidence of "devil may care" attitudes in Moscow
Hurray, I found finally found the Starbucks!
Boo, a miniature latte is $6
I've been trying to come up with a top ten, but here's my top Five
1) Taxi drivers drive stick shifts while talking on their cell phones, cutting off pedestrians and running red lights (both Petersburg and Moscow)
2) Beer regularly drunk on the street mid-day. No, it's not a bottle of diet coke, it's a 6% beer or can of Gin and Tonic. I saw teenagers having a beer at lunch outside of school. Wonder what study room is like...
3) Waiter used a large shot glass of vodka to ignite my frajitas, tableside. Right near the paper napkins. I kept my eyebrows thanksfully.
4) In restaurants, vodka is cheaper than bottle water.
5) No "cafe byest caffino" - decaf coffee in the cafes. Gotta be sharp to navigate this town!
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