Russia Breaks My Brain
I don't understand this place, I just live here.
#05: Moscow: A Go-Go
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Yep, as promised earlier, here is part two of our "Wolfe in Bizarro-World" marathon week. Today's chapter sort of explains a part of why communications with all you folks on the other side of the planet got so backed up. Basically, I was out of town for a little bit. Had a big meeting in Moscow to get to, and I couldn't be late. But I was anyway.
Alright, actually I didn't have a meeting to go to. It was Kristin's Fulbright meeting, and we had to ask for permission to see if I could come too. At first they said "no friends," but after we promised not to stay in the hotel and thus not cost them anything extra (sort of...if you don't count the buffet...heh,) they said I could come and listen in on what was billed as a mandatory orientation for Fulbright scholars staying in Russia.
To get to Moscow from St. Petersburg requires either $60 and 4.5 hours on a train for $20 and 9 hours on a train. We opted for the latter, in a class whose name sounds an awful lot like "Ox Cart." Before we left, we heard a couple of stories about trips in the Ox Cart (no, I don't actually remember the real name at this point. I think it has some German origin, and since I can barely keep Russian in my head...). One was about spending the night long trip with two convicts just released from prison, and sharing vodka with them before they wanted to start claiming girls in the compartment as "theirs." So we thought, hey, let's use the money belt, just in case.
Actually, the trip was amazingly quiet. Barely anyone in the entire car said a word the whole time. Each car is partitioned into maybe 6 little sections, with 6 benches/beds in each section, and we shared a section with a sad old woman, a younger guy who literally made no sound the entire trip and a very serious middle-aged man. But since I'm not exactly Mr. Conversation in public these days, it wasn't bad at all. Probably the most uncomfortable part was the money belt.
In Moscow, we took the subway to near the hotel where the conference was, and then took a wrong turn. Despite the help of the local police ("Excuse me," Kristin asked, "can you tell me where I can find the Ukraine Hotel?" "I don't know," the cop said, cracking himself up, "probably in the Ukraine.") we found the pretty swank hotel in time to catch a morning full of boring briefings by members of the U.S. Foreign Services.
After a few hours of listening to what these people had to say, I came to the following conclusions:
- It's sad that many of these official embassy people, and official security "experts" can't seem to actually speak Russian. I'm not sure how anyone is supposed to feel safe when their security coordinator can't really even negotiate anything with the local police, but hey, the State Department's been having a hard time lately, right?
- I don't think I want to work for the Foreign Services any time soon. Despite the fact that half of these briefings (the parts that weren't insightful tips like "don't lose your passport") were basically recruitment efforts to Join The State Department!, they weren't very convincing. But as they said themselves, humanities majors have to end up somewhere.
- Free food rules. Oh wait, I knew that already.
Yeah, they fed us multiple times, which was good. I tried to make up my travel expenses in food, and would have come close if I hadn't stupidly bought a beer at the end of the night (what normally costs about $.50 was over $3.00 in Mr. Swank Hotel.) (I know $3.00 doesn't seem like a ton, but keep in mind all prices here are on a different scale, including my income.) But one of the neater features of the meals was that lunch was a 5 course meal, and 2 of those were desserts. Thumbs up, to say the least.
The afternoon was a bit more interesting, because it was when the Fulbrighters talked about what they'd been up to, or were planning on doing. Aside from the glut of history scholars who seemed to have an amazing knack for giving their projects titles less interesting than the introduction to most furniture-assembly instructions, there were some interesting characters around. One was a guy from Chicago who is going on a 75 hour train ride, followed by 5 hours by car to some isolated town to study Throat Singing. And he sang for us. I can't really begin to describe it, but it was pretty neat. He's probably still on the train right now.
Another project of note was a guy making a documentary about an effort to protect the last 100 or so Russian Gray Whales in the world (they look like what you see in California, but aren't the same thing.) They're apparently under attack thanks to oil companies (hmmm...that seems to go without saying these days), and have been followed by a group of scientists for the last few years. To go out to see them, you need to wear a special suit that "gives you about 10 minutes" to get out of the water if you fall in. Then you're a scientiscicle.
Another guy, who was eerily reminiscent of David Ambroz, gave his report on politics in St. Petersburg. Actually, he just repeated what I told you all about the election in my previous email, because I guess he's simply been reading the same newspaper I am. It was very hard to not call him on it, but since I wasn't on the original guest list for this event, I figured it was better to not offend the official Fulbrighter.
All in all it was a neat crowd. Hopefully we'll get to take some of these folks up on their offers to visit them in their far-flung homes across Russia. Especially if they find a way to cut down on the 75 hour train rides.
Since Kristin and I weren't staying in the hotel that night, we headed out shortly after things wrapped up. While rushing around the subway again, I found out that when they say to stand clear of the closing doors here, they really mean it. I got my foot stuck in the door, and the thing would not let go. I had just enough time to say "my foot" and wonder how to explain such a thing to a doctor later on as the train began to move. Then I yanked it out, with a newfound respect for Russian public transportation coming along with it.
The train back to St. Petersburg was about as quiet as the ride to Moscow. The main change was that the old woman was less sad this time, and that the two guys had been replaced by two women who had warm beer for breakfast. So naturally we're going to have to go back, and see what the rest of Moscow looks like at some point. I guess this was just the teaser. But there were other important things to be back in St. Petersburg for last weekend, like Kristin's Russified Birthday Party. So that'll be in your inboxes soon, as the Bizarro-World marathon continues.
paka,
-Angry Giant
Yep, as promised earlier, here is part two of our "Wolfe in Bizarro-World" marathon week. Today's chapter sort of explains a part of why communications with all you folks on the other side of the planet got so backed up. Basically, I was out of town for a little bit. Had a big meeting in Moscow to get to, and I couldn't be late. But I was anyway.
Alright, actually I didn't have a meeting to go to. It was Kristin's Fulbright meeting, and we had to ask for permission to see if I could come too. At first they said "no friends," but after we promised not to stay in the hotel and thus not cost them anything extra (sort of...if you don't count the buffet...heh,) they said I could come and listen in on what was billed as a mandatory orientation for Fulbright scholars staying in Russia.
To get to Moscow from St. Petersburg requires either $60 and 4.5 hours on a train for $20 and 9 hours on a train. We opted for the latter, in a class whose name sounds an awful lot like "Ox Cart." Before we left, we heard a couple of stories about trips in the Ox Cart (no, I don't actually remember the real name at this point. I think it has some German origin, and since I can barely keep Russian in my head...). One was about spending the night long trip with two convicts just released from prison, and sharing vodka with them before they wanted to start claiming girls in the compartment as "theirs." So we thought, hey, let's use the money belt, just in case.
Actually, the trip was amazingly quiet. Barely anyone in the entire car said a word the whole time. Each car is partitioned into maybe 6 little sections, with 6 benches/beds in each section, and we shared a section with a sad old woman, a younger guy who literally made no sound the entire trip and a very serious middle-aged man. But since I'm not exactly Mr. Conversation in public these days, it wasn't bad at all. Probably the most uncomfortable part was the money belt.
In Moscow, we took the subway to near the hotel where the conference was, and then took a wrong turn. Despite the help of the local police ("Excuse me," Kristin asked, "can you tell me where I can find the Ukraine Hotel?" "I don't know," the cop said, cracking himself up, "probably in the Ukraine.") we found the pretty swank hotel in time to catch a morning full of boring briefings by members of the U.S. Foreign Services.
After a few hours of listening to what these people had to say, I came to the following conclusions:
- It's sad that many of these official embassy people, and official security "experts" can't seem to actually speak Russian. I'm not sure how anyone is supposed to feel safe when their security coordinator can't really even negotiate anything with the local police, but hey, the State Department's been having a hard time lately, right?
- I don't think I want to work for the Foreign Services any time soon. Despite the fact that half of these briefings (the parts that weren't insightful tips like "don't lose your passport") were basically recruitment efforts to Join The State Department!, they weren't very convincing. But as they said themselves, humanities majors have to end up somewhere.
- Free food rules. Oh wait, I knew that already.
Yeah, they fed us multiple times, which was good. I tried to make up my travel expenses in food, and would have come close if I hadn't stupidly bought a beer at the end of the night (what normally costs about $.50 was over $3.00 in Mr. Swank Hotel.) (I know $3.00 doesn't seem like a ton, but keep in mind all prices here are on a different scale, including my income.) But one of the neater features of the meals was that lunch was a 5 course meal, and 2 of those were desserts. Thumbs up, to say the least.
The afternoon was a bit more interesting, because it was when the Fulbrighters talked about what they'd been up to, or were planning on doing. Aside from the glut of history scholars who seemed to have an amazing knack for giving their projects titles less interesting than the introduction to most furniture-assembly instructions, there were some interesting characters around. One was a guy from Chicago who is going on a 75 hour train ride, followed by 5 hours by car to some isolated town to study Throat Singing. And he sang for us. I can't really begin to describe it, but it was pretty neat. He's probably still on the train right now.
Another project of note was a guy making a documentary about an effort to protect the last 100 or so Russian Gray Whales in the world (they look like what you see in California, but aren't the same thing.) They're apparently under attack thanks to oil companies (hmmm...that seems to go without saying these days), and have been followed by a group of scientists for the last few years. To go out to see them, you need to wear a special suit that "gives you about 10 minutes" to get out of the water if you fall in. Then you're a scientiscicle.
Another guy, who was eerily reminiscent of David Ambroz, gave his report on politics in St. Petersburg. Actually, he just repeated what I told you all about the election in my previous email, because I guess he's simply been reading the same newspaper I am. It was very hard to not call him on it, but since I wasn't on the original guest list for this event, I figured it was better to not offend the official Fulbrighter.
All in all it was a neat crowd. Hopefully we'll get to take some of these folks up on their offers to visit them in their far-flung homes across Russia. Especially if they find a way to cut down on the 75 hour train rides.
Since Kristin and I weren't staying in the hotel that night, we headed out shortly after things wrapped up. While rushing around the subway again, I found out that when they say to stand clear of the closing doors here, they really mean it. I got my foot stuck in the door, and the thing would not let go. I had just enough time to say "my foot" and wonder how to explain such a thing to a doctor later on as the train began to move. Then I yanked it out, with a newfound respect for Russian public transportation coming along with it.
The train back to St. Petersburg was about as quiet as the ride to Moscow. The main change was that the old woman was less sad this time, and that the two guys had been replaced by two women who had warm beer for breakfast. So naturally we're going to have to go back, and see what the rest of Moscow looks like at some point. I guess this was just the teaser. But there were other important things to be back in St. Petersburg for last weekend, like Kristin's Russified Birthday Party. So that'll be in your inboxes soon, as the Bizarro-World marathon continues.
paka,
-Angry Giant