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
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