Stateside

Yesterday- or I gues maybe it's going on two days ago in Moscow - started off so very well. I woke up nice and early after an evening of hanging out with some of my Moscow buds, enjoying a few last beers and laughs. I met my landlady, got back my security deposit, and handed in my keys before heading for the airport at around 9:30am for my 1:30 departure.

Why so early? Holiday traffic, of course. See, Russia basically shuts down from just before New Year's through mid-January, and everybody with plans likes to get out of Dodge while they can, often via the airports or Leningradsky Shosse. So, we figured, if I was going to get to the airport the recommended 2 hours before departure, it'd probably take 2 hours on the road.

Luckily, that was'nt necessary - the roads weren't as bad as we thought. That, unfortunately, is where the good part ended.

Imagine the feeling of a group of 200 passengers as they wait in line - or more appropriately for Russia, a barely organized mob - to board their transatlantic flight, and watching as the mechanics take a friggin' wheel off of the plane. Yeah, that was a good omen.

They must've fixed it, though, as they let us get on (apparently while the plane was still jacked up), and we landed safely at JFK 10 hours later, and about 1 hour late. Seeing as I now had less than an hour to make my connection, I gathered my bags at customs, got my entry stamps, rechecked my luggage, and cought the Airtrain to terminal 4 for my flight. Sprinting through and frantically searching for my gate (JFK doesn't display them at check in; only after security), I finally got to my flight a mere fifteen minutes before take off.

Or, I should say, scheduled takeoff. It's always easier to fly with an airplane, and ours hadn't arrived yet - lord only knows why, but I finally left for Cleveland another hour late.

Of course, it could've been worse, I thought - at least with these delays, they'd have time to get my bags on board.

Or so I thought. Long story short, my bags are still in New York; and luckily I had some clothes stashed here (plus Christmas gifts) so that I at least have a few changes. So, here I wait.

So have a good holiday, everyone - and my free New Year's advice: avoid JFK airport at all costs. Sheremetevo is better organized.

Konechnaya Stantsiya (Last Stop)

Well, it's been a helluva ride, but it's finally coming to an end. I spent the last week up in St. Petersburg being shown the town and getting a little comparative data, and since then it's been holiday parties, cleaning, and packing up for home.

Anybody who's never been to St. Pete should really think about going. It's still about as much 'Russia' as Moscow - that is to say, it's still an exception rather than the rule - but it's a very different experience. For one thing, it's a lot friendlier to the tourist, with signs and directions in English. It's also less expensive and a bit more laid back.

That said, go in the summer. The winds off the Neva in December can be brutal. And boy, could those tsars do Imperial grandeur. Take, for example, this photo of just one of the many ridiculously gorgeous and huge rooms at the Hermitage, one of the world's great museums:
And that's just a small taste. Had it been sunny and warm, we'd have gone out to some of the country palaces, which were really something to see.

Riding the night train from Moscow to St. Petersburg is fun, if not exactly all that relaxing. If you can't sleep on a plane, forget about sleeping on a train. Still we ended up with a coupe (cabin) to ourselves, which was a relief after seeing some of the party types whe were getting on board. The midnight train also provides a few snacks and even toiletries in the ticket price. Coming back we took an earlier train, which didn't have as many frills, but we still lucked out and didn't have any snoring drunks to share the cabin with.

Anyway, since then it's been parties and packing. The last part sucks, of course, but I relish getting to see people one last time before hitting the road.

With that, I'm going to sign off the "field" portion of this blog with shout outs to all of my friends, Russian, American, and Miscellaneous Other - I won't name names for fear of forgetting someone; you know who you are. A Happy New Year to everyone, and I'll see you Stateside.

Dave (I'm the short one in front).

American Imports

OK, there are a few Western imports out there that would make living in Russia a much more comfortable experience, at least for expats. Window screens, for example. And peanut butter. Not to mention hot water year round, turn lanes, air conditioning, and a police force that doesn't run mainly on bribes and intimidation (well, that runs less on these anyway).

This type of thing, however, this country can do without.

"Don't."

That's the advice I've gotten from anyone I've ever asked about the possibility of driving in Moscow. And you know what? They're right.

One has to keep in mind that 'traffic laws' are pretty much theoretical here. There are no turn lanes, thus making every lane a turn lane. The lights are poorly spaced, both in terms of where they are located and how often they change.

Add this and stir: there are several hundred more thousand cars here than there are parking spots, thus clogging the curb lanes (and sometimes the center lanes) with parked cars. And since even the crappiest Zhigulis have car alarms, there's a cacaphony of noise every time a tram or bus rumbles past.

Of course, that's nothing new, as drivers five back in the line tend to lean on the horns the instant a light turns green; and once it turns red you can bet that at least half a dozen are still going to blow on through without slowing down.

"So," I hear you saying, "why drive when there's the wonderful Moscow Metro?" Glad you asked! I don't drive, of course, but I don't live close enough to a metro station to walk all the time (plus I'm lazy), so I quite often have to hop on one of those trams (streetcars) or buses I mentioned, and they share the road with these folks.

I've never white-knuckled on a roller coaster the way I have on occassion while riding the No. 26 tram here, and I spent many summers at Cedar Point. Taking turns at breakneck speed, often with the car just crammed full of passengers, just hoping no one will pull out of one of Moscow's thousands of hidden drives; or that you won't suddenly run into a car using the tracks as a 'short cut' to bypass the gridlock; or that you won't plow into 4 lanes of traffic, all hanging a left in front of you (I mentioned the no turning lanes bit, right?).

Still, it's better than driving.

Where Has the Time Gone?

So it dawned on me late last week that Thanksgiving was rapidly approaching, and that I honest to God hadn't noticed. I mean, sure, there wasn't the crazy running around shopping, the big ol' turkeys just waiting to be cooked up and carved, piles of potatoes and stuffing, the start of the college bowl season...

OK, I'm aware I have a problem. But you'd think what with all the "Novy god" (New Year) decorations already going up around Moscow that I'd have gotten the hint. Luckily I was still able to RSVP for the Embassy Thanksgiving dinner, so that'll at least take care of my turkey jones. I'm still working on the footbal issue; it's tradition to watch the Lions lose and/or root against the Cowboys.

More to the point, however, I realized that next week will be my 1-year anniversary here in Moscow, and that my time here will very soon be coming to an end. This of course makes one think of all the experiences of the past year, all the things I've done and seen, the people I've met, and all of the things I've learned.

The flip side is that it means I've got about 4 weeks to get a bunch more stuff done, get all of my business together for my move back to Mad-town (after which I'll have to sit down and pray that all this stuff actually can be pounded into a dissertation), and of course getting my Christmas shopping done before I fly off to (slightly) warmer climes.

This week, though, I'm just looking forward to a good old triptophan-induced coma. Happy Turkey Day, all!