that is russian for "cool".
everything in my vocabulary is kruta nowadays.
kruta, eh?!
Monday, December 05, 2005
toasting
you want to out yourself as a non-russian in russia?
simply go shouting "na zdarovye" when toasting.
there. you are outed. you are a "inostranets".
wanna do it the correct way? simply say "za zdarovye".
russian grammar...
simply go shouting "na zdarovye" when toasting.
there. you are outed. you are a "inostranets".
wanna do it the correct way? simply say "za zdarovye".
russian grammar...
Friday, December 02, 2005
YOU KNOW YOU HAVE BEEN TO RUSSIA TOO LONG WHEN...
this one doesn't come from me but i LOVE it! (i shall refrain, however, from admitting how many of these symptomps are valid for yours truly)
1. You have to think twice about throwing away an empty instant coffee jar.
3. You carry a plastic shopping bag with you "just in case".
4. You say he/she is "on the meeting" (instead of "at the" or "in a meeting).
5. You answer the phone by saying "allo, allo, allo" before giving the caller a chance to respond.
6. You save table scraps for the cats living in the courtyard.
7. When crossing the street, you sprint.
8. In winter, you choose your route by determining which icicles are least likely to impale you in the head.
9. You are impressed with the new model Lada or Volga car.
10. You let the telephone ring at least 4 times before you pick it up because it is probably a mis-connection or electric fault.
11. You hear the radio say it is zero degrees outside and you think it is a nice day for a change.
12. You argue with a taxi driver about a fare of 30 rubles ($2) to go 2 kilometers in a blizzard.
13. You actually know and CARE whether Spartak won last night.
14. You win a shoving match with an old Babushka for a place in line and you are proud of it.
15. You are pleasantly surprised when there is toilet paper in the WC at work.
16. You look at people's shoes to determine where they are from.
17. You automatically hand in your mace at the door before going through a metal detector.
18. You are pleasantly surprised when there is real wine in the bottle of Georgian Kinzamaruli you bought in a kiosk.
19. You notice that Flathead's cell phone is smaller than yours and you're jealous.
20. Your day seems brighter after seeing that goon's Mercedes broadsided by a pensioner's "Moskvich".
21. You are thrown off guard when the doorman at the nightclub is happy to see you.
22. You're not sure what to do you when the "GAI" (traffic cop) only asks you to pay the official fine.
23. You wonder what the tax inspector really wants when she says everything is in order.
24. You give a 10% tip only if the waiter has been really exceptional.
25. You plan your vacation around those times of the year when the hot water is turned off.
26. You are relieved when the guy standing next to you on the bus actually uses a handkerchief.
27. You are envious because your expat friend has smaller door keys than you have.
28. You ask for no ice in your drink.
29. You start using "da" instead of "yes".
30. You go mushroom and berry picking out of necessity instead of recreation.
31. You develop a liking for beetroot.
32. You begin to socialize with your driver and/or your cleaning lady.
33. You know what Dostoyevsky's favorite color was.
34. You start to believe that you're a character in a Tolstoi novel.
35. You know seven people whose favorite novel is "The Master and Margarita".
36. You change into tapki (slippers) and wash your hands as soon as you walk into your apartment.
37. You take a trip to Budapest and think you've been to heaven.
38. You start thinking of black bread as a good chaser for vodka.
39. You drink the brine from empty pickle jars.
40. You can read bar-codes, and you start shopping for products by their country of production.
41. You begin to refer to locals as "nashy" (ours).
42. It doesn't seem strange to pay the GAI $2.25 for crossing the double line while making an illegal U-turn, and $35 for a microwaved dish of frozen vegetables at a crappy restaurant.
43. Your coffee cups habitually smell of vodka.
44. You know more than 60 Olgas.
45. You give you business card to social acquaintances.
46. You wear a wool hat in the sauna.
47. You put the empty bottle of wine on the floor in a restaurant.
48. You are rude to people at the airport for no reason.
49. You have to check your passport for an arrival-in-Russia date.
50. 'Remont', 'pivo' and 'nalivai' become integral parts of your vocabulary.
51. You've been to Tallinn at least a dozen times for visas.
52. You are curious as to when they might start exporting Baltika beer to your home country.
53. Cigarette smoke becomes 'tolerable'.
54. You think metal doors are a necessity.
55. You changed apartments 6 times in 6 months.
56. You no longer feel like going to your "home" country.
57. You speak to other expats in your native language, but forget a few of the simplest words and throw in some Russian ones.
58. You remember how many kilos you weigh - but forget how many pounds.
59. A gallon of gasoline or milk seems like a foreign concept.
60. You no longer miss the foods you grew up with, and pass them up at foreign-owned supermarkets.
61. You actually enjoy shopping at the rynok, and you think that Ramstore is the most advanced supermarket you've ever been to.
62. You think that the Manezh is a real shopping mall.
68. You don't feel guilty about not paying on the trolley.
69. You can sleep through a hangover without curtains on your windows.
70. The elevator aroma seems reassuring somehow.
71. You no longer think washing clothes in the -bathtub is an inconvenience.
72. You can heat water on the stove and shower with it in under 10 minutes.
73. You have to take E S L lessons before you go home.
74. You do not take off that silly sticker on the sunglasses that you just bought.
75. Your sister writes to you about the best prime rib she's ever had and you can't remember what it looks or tastes like.
76. The sellers at the rynok start calling you by your patronymic only.
77. You have had your clothes ruined by all the so-called Western style dry cleaners and have to start the cycle over again.
78. You bring your own scale and calculator to the market to make sure the amount you are charged is correct.
79. When you know the Moscow Metro better than you know the subway system back home.
80. A weekend anywhere in the Baltics qualifies as a trip to the West.
81. You start buying Russian toilet paper.
82. You sit in silence with your eyes shut for a few moments before leaving on any long journey.
83. You look in the mirror to turn away bad luck if you have to return home to pick something up you've forgotten.
84. You catch yourself whistling indoors and feel guilty.
85. You never smile in public when you're alone.
86. You know the official at the metro station/airport/border/post office/railway station etc. etc. is going to say "nyet", but you argue anyway.
87. When you save tea bags of Yorkshire Tea brought over specially from home to use for a second cuppa later....
88. When you go back to England and notice how frosty, unemotional, unsentimental and cold the Brits are and long to return to the warm rush of the Russian "dusha" (soul).
89. When that strange pungent mix of odours of stale sawdust, sweat and grime in the metro makes you feel safe and at home....
90. When you realise that all the above and the other messages on this subject posted here are what you love about Russia, that you've been here long enough to feel at home and wonder whether you'll ever be able to fit back in in the old country....
91. You are in awe that after 3 days home your shoes are still clean.
92. You get wildly offended when you are asked to pay at the coatcheck.
93. You are insolent to people for leaving their jackets on when entering restaurants, etc.
94. You are afraid of offending someone by asking them what they do for a living.
95. (For women) When you dress up in your best outfits for work and ride the metro.
96. When the word "salad" ceases for you to have anything to do with lettuce.
97. When mayonnaise becomes your dressing of choice.
98. You can recite in Russian all the words to all the tampon (OK OB, etc.) and chewing gum commercials.
99. When you begin paying attention to peoples' floors and can distinguish the quality of linoleum and/or parquet, and thus determine social status, taste, and income e.g. embezzled, earned, pension, unpaid, etc.).
100. You get excited when the dentist smiles and has all his own teeth.
101. You do all your shopping at kiosks.
103. You judge the strength of your local Mafia clan by the availability of Planters Cheese Balls.
104. You voluntarily take a stroll in the park, Baltica beer in hand, on a sub-zero day.
When you go back to the "home country":
105. You continue to "cross" the number 7.
106. You think it's too hot, no matter what season you return.
107. You specify "no gas" when asking for mineral water.
108. You are dumbstruck when high school or college students wait you with a smile, reciting a 90 second spiel on the "specials of the day" and display complete knowledge of the contents of each menu item...
109. You tip very little, even for great service.
110. You try pay a traffic fine one the spot and get arrested for attempted bribery.
111. You look for kvas and kefir in the supermarket, and ask to buy half a head of cabbage.
112. You are surprised to see that the cooks in a Chinese restaurant are actually Chinese.
113. You get bored with the pace and organization around you, and can't wait to get back to Russia.
114. You see a car behind you with flashing lights and think it's some politician.
1. You have to think twice about throwing away an empty instant coffee jar.
3. You carry a plastic shopping bag with you "just in case".
4. You say he/she is "on the meeting" (instead of "at the" or "in a meeting).
5. You answer the phone by saying "allo, allo, allo" before giving the caller a chance to respond.
6. You save table scraps for the cats living in the courtyard.
7. When crossing the street, you sprint.
8. In winter, you choose your route by determining which icicles are least likely to impale you in the head.
9. You are impressed with the new model Lada or Volga car.
10. You let the telephone ring at least 4 times before you pick it up because it is probably a mis-connection or electric fault.
11. You hear the radio say it is zero degrees outside and you think it is a nice day for a change.
12. You argue with a taxi driver about a fare of 30 rubles ($2) to go 2 kilometers in a blizzard.
13. You actually know and CARE whether Spartak won last night.
14. You win a shoving match with an old Babushka for a place in line and you are proud of it.
15. You are pleasantly surprised when there is toilet paper in the WC at work.
16. You look at people's shoes to determine where they are from.
17. You automatically hand in your mace at the door before going through a metal detector.
18. You are pleasantly surprised when there is real wine in the bottle of Georgian Kinzamaruli you bought in a kiosk.
19. You notice that Flathead's cell phone is smaller than yours and you're jealous.
20. Your day seems brighter after seeing that goon's Mercedes broadsided by a pensioner's "Moskvich".
21. You are thrown off guard when the doorman at the nightclub is happy to see you.
22. You're not sure what to do you when the "GAI" (traffic cop) only asks you to pay the official fine.
23. You wonder what the tax inspector really wants when she says everything is in order.
24. You give a 10% tip only if the waiter has been really exceptional.
25. You plan your vacation around those times of the year when the hot water is turned off.
26. You are relieved when the guy standing next to you on the bus actually uses a handkerchief.
27. You are envious because your expat friend has smaller door keys than you have.
28. You ask for no ice in your drink.
29. You start using "da" instead of "yes".
30. You go mushroom and berry picking out of necessity instead of recreation.
31. You develop a liking for beetroot.
32. You begin to socialize with your driver and/or your cleaning lady.
33. You know what Dostoyevsky's favorite color was.
34. You start to believe that you're a character in a Tolstoi novel.
35. You know seven people whose favorite novel is "The Master and Margarita".
36. You change into tapki (slippers) and wash your hands as soon as you walk into your apartment.
37. You take a trip to Budapest and think you've been to heaven.
38. You start thinking of black bread as a good chaser for vodka.
39. You drink the brine from empty pickle jars.
40. You can read bar-codes, and you start shopping for products by their country of production.
41. You begin to refer to locals as "nashy" (ours).
42. It doesn't seem strange to pay the GAI $2.25 for crossing the double line while making an illegal U-turn, and $35 for a microwaved dish of frozen vegetables at a crappy restaurant.
43. Your coffee cups habitually smell of vodka.
44. You know more than 60 Olgas.
45. You give you business card to social acquaintances.
46. You wear a wool hat in the sauna.
47. You put the empty bottle of wine on the floor in a restaurant.
48. You are rude to people at the airport for no reason.
49. You have to check your passport for an arrival-in-Russia date.
50. 'Remont', 'pivo' and 'nalivai' become integral parts of your vocabulary.
51. You've been to Tallinn at least a dozen times for visas.
52. You are curious as to when they might start exporting Baltika beer to your home country.
53. Cigarette smoke becomes 'tolerable'.
54. You think metal doors are a necessity.
55. You changed apartments 6 times in 6 months.
56. You no longer feel like going to your "home" country.
57. You speak to other expats in your native language, but forget a few of the simplest words and throw in some Russian ones.
58. You remember how many kilos you weigh - but forget how many pounds.
59. A gallon of gasoline or milk seems like a foreign concept.
60. You no longer miss the foods you grew up with, and pass them up at foreign-owned supermarkets.
61. You actually enjoy shopping at the rynok, and you think that Ramstore is the most advanced supermarket you've ever been to.
62. You think that the Manezh is a real shopping mall.
68. You don't feel guilty about not paying on the trolley.
69. You can sleep through a hangover without curtains on your windows.
70. The elevator aroma seems reassuring somehow.
71. You no longer think washing clothes in the -bathtub is an inconvenience.
72. You can heat water on the stove and shower with it in under 10 minutes.
73. You have to take E S L lessons before you go home.
74. You do not take off that silly sticker on the sunglasses that you just bought.
75. Your sister writes to you about the best prime rib she's ever had and you can't remember what it looks or tastes like.
76. The sellers at the rynok start calling you by your patronymic only.
77. You have had your clothes ruined by all the so-called Western style dry cleaners and have to start the cycle over again.
78. You bring your own scale and calculator to the market to make sure the amount you are charged is correct.
79. When you know the Moscow Metro better than you know the subway system back home.
80. A weekend anywhere in the Baltics qualifies as a trip to the West.
81. You start buying Russian toilet paper.
82. You sit in silence with your eyes shut for a few moments before leaving on any long journey.
83. You look in the mirror to turn away bad luck if you have to return home to pick something up you've forgotten.
84. You catch yourself whistling indoors and feel guilty.
85. You never smile in public when you're alone.
86. You know the official at the metro station/airport/border/post office/railway station etc. etc. is going to say "nyet", but you argue anyway.
87. When you save tea bags of Yorkshire Tea brought over specially from home to use for a second cuppa later....
88. When you go back to England and notice how frosty, unemotional, unsentimental and cold the Brits are and long to return to the warm rush of the Russian "dusha" (soul).
89. When that strange pungent mix of odours of stale sawdust, sweat and grime in the metro makes you feel safe and at home....
90. When you realise that all the above and the other messages on this subject posted here are what you love about Russia, that you've been here long enough to feel at home and wonder whether you'll ever be able to fit back in in the old country....
91. You are in awe that after 3 days home your shoes are still clean.
92. You get wildly offended when you are asked to pay at the coatcheck.
93. You are insolent to people for leaving their jackets on when entering restaurants, etc.
94. You are afraid of offending someone by asking them what they do for a living.
95. (For women) When you dress up in your best outfits for work and ride the metro.
96. When the word "salad" ceases for you to have anything to do with lettuce.
97. When mayonnaise becomes your dressing of choice.
98. You can recite in Russian all the words to all the tampon (OK OB, etc.) and chewing gum commercials.
99. When you begin paying attention to peoples' floors and can distinguish the quality of linoleum and/or parquet, and thus determine social status, taste, and income e.g. embezzled, earned, pension, unpaid, etc.).
100. You get excited when the dentist smiles and has all his own teeth.
101. You do all your shopping at kiosks.
103. You judge the strength of your local Mafia clan by the availability of Planters Cheese Balls.
104. You voluntarily take a stroll in the park, Baltica beer in hand, on a sub-zero day.
When you go back to the "home country":
105. You continue to "cross" the number 7.
106. You think it's too hot, no matter what season you return.
107. You specify "no gas" when asking for mineral water.
108. You are dumbstruck when high school or college students wait you with a smile, reciting a 90 second spiel on the "specials of the day" and display complete knowledge of the contents of each menu item...
109. You tip very little, even for great service.
110. You try pay a traffic fine one the spot and get arrested for attempted bribery.
111. You look for kvas and kefir in the supermarket, and ask to buy half a head of cabbage.
112. You are surprised to see that the cooks in a Chinese restaurant are actually Chinese.
113. You get bored with the pace and organization around you, and can't wait to get back to Russia.
114. You see a car behind you with flashing lights and think it's some politician.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
black hair
when i moved to russia, i had pitch-black hair. not natural of course.
an acquaintance of mine was married to a chechen guy at the time. she told me i was going to have problems in moscow, with such black hair. because i could be taken for a chechen.
i stopped dying my hair black.
and one of my colleagues who also used to dye her hair black would constantly get stopped on the streets by police for document checks.
i am now back to being boring brown-haired.
an acquaintance of mine was married to a chechen guy at the time. she told me i was going to have problems in moscow, with such black hair. because i could be taken for a chechen.
i stopped dying my hair black.
and one of my colleagues who also used to dye her hair black would constantly get stopped on the streets by police for document checks.
i am now back to being boring brown-haired.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
russian border guards - part 4
the unfriendliness of russian border guards in the moscow area is so grave that there is some sort of a decree instructing them that they have to be polite to tourist passengers, entering and exiting the country.
reportedly, that order even requires the border guard officials to smile at passengers!
in a normal place (no, this is not a normal place, this is moscow, russia, something different!), there would be no need for a "law" obliging people to be polite and smile at other people.
of all the funny things about this place, i think this is my favourite!
(note: in practice the order is totally useless, you still ain't gonna get no smiles from them border guards! - i need to get a hold of that order so that i can next time hold it under their nose and demand a smile from them!)
reportedly, that order even requires the border guard officials to smile at passengers!
in a normal place (no, this is not a normal place, this is moscow, russia, something different!), there would be no need for a "law" obliging people to be polite and smile at other people.
of all the funny things about this place, i think this is my favourite!
(note: in practice the order is totally useless, you still ain't gonna get no smiles from them border guards! - i need to get a hold of that order so that i can next time hold it under their nose and demand a smile from them!)
Thursday, November 24, 2005
black jeeps in moscow
one night, i was driving home with my friend. actually, she was the one driving ('cos i am shitscared of driving in moscow city traffic...). just when we were pulling into the little side street next to my house, a fancy big expensive dark car with darkened windows shoots directly in front of us.
now that's nothing of the extraordinary here. but then, all of a sudden, this big massive guy dressed all in black comes onto the street and stands right in front of our car, signaling to us to stop the car and not to move any further.
and all of a sudden a big black jeep with darkened windows pulls in from behind us, out of the nowhere, going right after the other fancy car.
it was the security escort of probably some rich new russian...
(there went my chance of meeting a russian millionaire)
and we cut off the way for the security escort... oh dear... when we realised that, we were just waiting for the guys to pull out their big guns at us...
(which didn't happen but would not have been surprising)
the morale of the story: when you see a fancy expensive car with a black jeep right behind it, NEVER, under NO circumstances, try to get in between these two cars!
now that's nothing of the extraordinary here. but then, all of a sudden, this big massive guy dressed all in black comes onto the street and stands right in front of our car, signaling to us to stop the car and not to move any further.
and all of a sudden a big black jeep with darkened windows pulls in from behind us, out of the nowhere, going right after the other fancy car.
it was the security escort of probably some rich new russian...
(there went my chance of meeting a russian millionaire)
and we cut off the way for the security escort... oh dear... when we realised that, we were just waiting for the guys to pull out their big guns at us...
(which didn't happen but would not have been surprising)
the morale of the story: when you see a fancy expensive car with a black jeep right behind it, NEVER, under NO circumstances, try to get in between these two cars!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
trans-siberia
i did it!
last summer.
9,289 km from moscow to vladivostok.
(just to compare: south africa to the middle of europe is about the same distance...)
144 hours 45 minutes on trains.
all my russian colleagues thought i'd gone completely nuts when i told them about my planned trip. why would one want to spend 6 days and nights on russian trains as holiday?! i caused even more headshaking when i said that i wanted to travel in 3rd class ("platskartny") as much as possible. why why why?! would everyone ask me. hi hi... it got even worse when i announced that i was going to do this all by myself, all alone...
and i did it! during 3 weeks. and i loved every single minute of it!
i had some of the best moments in russia during my transsib trip. forget about them moscovites, they are a different species of their own. i encountered so much friendliness and warmness during my trip. probably also exactly because i was by myself. one young (yes!) chick traveling by herself caused a lot of openness from the side of the russians.
i took a lot of pictures from all the places i visited. kazan, ekaterinburg, novosibirsk, krasnoyarsk, irkutsk, lake baikal and olkhon island, ulan ude and ivolginsk, khabarovsk and vladivostok. and all my russian colleagues were really impressed and somewhat envious about my trip. i had seen much more of russia than them. now they all want to do it as well...
i say, go for it!
last summer.
9,289 km from moscow to vladivostok.
(just to compare: south africa to the middle of europe is about the same distance...)
144 hours 45 minutes on trains.
all my russian colleagues thought i'd gone completely nuts when i told them about my planned trip. why would one want to spend 6 days and nights on russian trains as holiday?! i caused even more headshaking when i said that i wanted to travel in 3rd class ("platskartny") as much as possible. why why why?! would everyone ask me. hi hi... it got even worse when i announced that i was going to do this all by myself, all alone...
and i did it! during 3 weeks. and i loved every single minute of it!
i had some of the best moments in russia during my transsib trip. forget about them moscovites, they are a different species of their own. i encountered so much friendliness and warmness during my trip. probably also exactly because i was by myself. one young (yes!) chick traveling by herself caused a lot of openness from the side of the russians.
i took a lot of pictures from all the places i visited. kazan, ekaterinburg, novosibirsk, krasnoyarsk, irkutsk, lake baikal and olkhon island, ulan ude and ivolginsk, khabarovsk and vladivostok. and all my russian colleagues were really impressed and somewhat envious about my trip. i had seen much more of russia than them. now they all want to do it as well...
i say, go for it!
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
russian border guards - part 3
ok, here goes another one...
i have a special travel document from my work, which does not state my nationality. but it contains my russian visa and the latter in turn states my western european nationality. now remember that i have 2 nationalities and hence another 2 regular passports.
so normally when i travel in and out of russia, i hand over my special travel document and my western european passport.
but, one day last july, i was going on a trip to my eastern european home. so when approaching the border guards at the passport control at the airport, i give them my eastern european passport instead.
oh boy.
that was a funny moment.
the border guard on duty looks at my 2 documents and is totally confused. i mean, really confused. so eventually she asks me if i have 2 nationalities, because my documents don't make any sense to her. hi hi... i admit, i was playing with them that day, confusing them on purpose and pretending to have forgotten my western european passport at home... (actually, this is another sign of saying i have been in russia for too long - when you find it fun to stir up heated arguments with someone else, esp. with the authorities...)
the whole thing ended after a discussion of 15 minutes with the head of the border guards. they finally agreed to let me leave the country! (but also saying that upon my re-entry into russia, i would have to present my western european passport)
imagine that, it is sometimes harder to leave russia than to enter it...
once they agreed to let me depart, i was really mean and, ooops, "i just found my other passport in my handbag - sorry, it's a bit messy and i didn't see it ... i really thought i had forgotten it at home..."
i had so much fun testing how far i could go with the border guards and whether i could convince them with my negotiation skills in russian!
(help - i am soooo russified!)
i have a special travel document from my work, which does not state my nationality. but it contains my russian visa and the latter in turn states my western european nationality. now remember that i have 2 nationalities and hence another 2 regular passports.
so normally when i travel in and out of russia, i hand over my special travel document and my western european passport.
but, one day last july, i was going on a trip to my eastern european home. so when approaching the border guards at the passport control at the airport, i give them my eastern european passport instead.
oh boy.
that was a funny moment.
the border guard on duty looks at my 2 documents and is totally confused. i mean, really confused. so eventually she asks me if i have 2 nationalities, because my documents don't make any sense to her. hi hi... i admit, i was playing with them that day, confusing them on purpose and pretending to have forgotten my western european passport at home... (actually, this is another sign of saying i have been in russia for too long - when you find it fun to stir up heated arguments with someone else, esp. with the authorities...)
the whole thing ended after a discussion of 15 minutes with the head of the border guards. they finally agreed to let me leave the country! (but also saying that upon my re-entry into russia, i would have to present my western european passport)
imagine that, it is sometimes harder to leave russia than to enter it...
once they agreed to let me depart, i was really mean and, ooops, "i just found my other passport in my handbag - sorry, it's a bit messy and i didn't see it ... i really thought i had forgotten it at home..."
i had so much fun testing how far i could go with the border guards and whether i could convince them with my negotiation skills in russian!
(help - i am soooo russified!)
Friday, November 18, 2005
phone lines
ouf. i could blog a lot about phone lines in this country.
or i could blog all the phone conversations i accidentally overheard. because of the phone lines in this country.
they are bad.
if you're bored at home, just pick up your phone and you can be pretty sure to be able to listen in on other people's phone conversations.
this happens a lot.
or, you are chatting away on the phone to a friend and all of a sudden there is this "click", and "allo allo allo?", "seriosha, eto ty?", "a olya doma?" etc. and there goes another phone conversation that is being mixed up with yours. you can even meet new people like that!
that is one of the reasons why you simply don't talk about certain things on the phone.
the other one is of course the authorities. if even your neighbours can overhear your conversations, you can probably imagine who else is listening in every once in a while.
given that i am a foreigner in this country, i can be definitely sure that i am of special interest to the russian authorities.
for example, the other day i was talking to one of my friends from back home. we were talking in a language that is rather rare, even in europe. after exactly 30 minutes (i know because i have a timer on my phone screen), the line goes dead. just like that. in the middle of my sentence. and we were not even talking about anything political or so. i tried to call back my friend and so did he. but, no chance! the line remained dead. at least for a couple of minutes. then, all of a sudden, it worked again.
my theory is that, since we were talking in such a weird and rare language, they couldn't find anyone who would understand us. so they had to tape our conversation. and the tape ends after 30 minutes and you have to change sides.
maybe i am getting too paranoid living in this place...?!
i had numerous moments like that, though...
or i could blog all the phone conversations i accidentally overheard. because of the phone lines in this country.
they are bad.
if you're bored at home, just pick up your phone and you can be pretty sure to be able to listen in on other people's phone conversations.
this happens a lot.
or, you are chatting away on the phone to a friend and all of a sudden there is this "click", and "allo allo allo?", "seriosha, eto ty?", "a olya doma?" etc. and there goes another phone conversation that is being mixed up with yours. you can even meet new people like that!
that is one of the reasons why you simply don't talk about certain things on the phone.
the other one is of course the authorities. if even your neighbours can overhear your conversations, you can probably imagine who else is listening in every once in a while.
given that i am a foreigner in this country, i can be definitely sure that i am of special interest to the russian authorities.
for example, the other day i was talking to one of my friends from back home. we were talking in a language that is rather rare, even in europe. after exactly 30 minutes (i know because i have a timer on my phone screen), the line goes dead. just like that. in the middle of my sentence. and we were not even talking about anything political or so. i tried to call back my friend and so did he. but, no chance! the line remained dead. at least for a couple of minutes. then, all of a sudden, it worked again.
my theory is that, since we were talking in such a weird and rare language, they couldn't find anyone who would understand us. so they had to tape our conversation. and the tape ends after 30 minutes and you have to change sides.
maybe i am getting too paranoid living in this place...?!
i had numerous moments like that, though...
Thursday, November 17, 2005
mentally unbalanced!
THIS BLOG IS DEDICATED TO FANTOMAS:
i once read a short article on the order handed out to russian border guards to be polite and smile when confronted by tourists on account of the many complaints against them.
it further commented that "It should be pointed out that smiling simply for the sake of being polite and not because one wants to make a sincere gesture is quite alien to the Russian mind. In general, a smile from a Russian really means something for the person at the receiving end and a Russian who smiles at people whom s/he does not even know is assumed to be mentally unbalanced."
my russian colleagues in the office confirmed this statement and stated that "of course i don't smile at people that i don't know!"
despite my russification, i guess i'm considered mentally unbalanced...
(i also find it interesting that the smiling order only goes for tourists but not for locals - this is such a fascinating country!)
i once read a short article on the order handed out to russian border guards to be polite and smile when confronted by tourists on account of the many complaints against them.
it further commented that "It should be pointed out that smiling simply for the sake of being polite and not because one wants to make a sincere gesture is quite alien to the Russian mind. In general, a smile from a Russian really means something for the person at the receiving end and a Russian who smiles at people whom s/he does not even know is assumed to be mentally unbalanced."
my russian colleagues in the office confirmed this statement and stated that "of course i don't smile at people that i don't know!"
despite my russification, i guess i'm considered mentally unbalanced...
(i also find it interesting that the smiling order only goes for tourists but not for locals - this is such a fascinating country!)
russian border guards - part 2
i am not sure yet how many stories i will post about russian border guards. nor how many i should, really...
last summer, i decided to see russia. i mean, really see the country and travel around all over. so i went on a trip across the country, across siberia, some 9300 km from moscow to vladivostok. the good old trans-siberian!
when i boarded the train in ulan ude (capital of buryatia, east of lake baikal), i was going on my longest train ride in a row - approx. 60 hours to khabarovsk. since the cheapest class was all booked out, i travelled 2nd class, in a little "kupe". the kupe is meant for 4 people with a door (3rd class, or "platskartny", doesn't have a door and resembles more like a big, open sleeping camp - or refugee camp, as lonely planet put it...).
so there i go, i found myself in a kupe with some border guards, my specially beloved russian official-type...
after some silent and shy minutes, the party gets going. the border guards (and two other guys who joined the kupe) unpack all their food and drinks. in the real russian fashion, they share all they have with everyone else in the kupe.
and so i found myself drinking 3 bottles of vodka (5 people!) in the course of about 4 hours... and that was right after lunch, it wasn't even evening yet... also, i don't even particularly like vodka...
(now don't give me that line "you could have politely declined" - this DOES NOT fly with russians, esp. not with the border guards, trust me. that would have been like punching them in their faces. not a good idea. the only resistance you can put up is saying only "tzhut-tzhut" please = "a tiny little weeny bit")
admittedly, though, i had a great time with them... they were a lot of fun...
last summer, i decided to see russia. i mean, really see the country and travel around all over. so i went on a trip across the country, across siberia, some 9300 km from moscow to vladivostok. the good old trans-siberian!
when i boarded the train in ulan ude (capital of buryatia, east of lake baikal), i was going on my longest train ride in a row - approx. 60 hours to khabarovsk. since the cheapest class was all booked out, i travelled 2nd class, in a little "kupe". the kupe is meant for 4 people with a door (3rd class, or "platskartny", doesn't have a door and resembles more like a big, open sleeping camp - or refugee camp, as lonely planet put it...).
so there i go, i found myself in a kupe with some border guards, my specially beloved russian official-type...
after some silent and shy minutes, the party gets going. the border guards (and two other guys who joined the kupe) unpack all their food and drinks. in the real russian fashion, they share all they have with everyone else in the kupe.
and so i found myself drinking 3 bottles of vodka (5 people!) in the course of about 4 hours... and that was right after lunch, it wasn't even evening yet... also, i don't even particularly like vodka...
(now don't give me that line "you could have politely declined" - this DOES NOT fly with russians, esp. not with the border guards, trust me. that would have been like punching them in their faces. not a good idea. the only resistance you can put up is saying only "tzhut-tzhut" please = "a tiny little weeny bit")
admittedly, though, i had a great time with them... they were a lot of fun...
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
flying on the plane with russians
ever been on an airplane with russians? then this will sound familiar to you:
the minute the plane hits the ground, often a round of happy clapping.
the next sound is the "click" "click" "click" from all the russians immediately unfastening their seat belts.
then the mobile phones. note the plane is still rolling on the landing lane. lots of different melodies from the phones.
then lots of shouting into mobile phones "we just landed! will be out in a few minutes!"
the minute the plane stops rolling and arrives at the gate, everyone jumping out of their seats, grabbing all their belongings and running out of the plane. literally. regardless of who is in front of them, little kids, elderly ladies, handicapped people.
then a race to the passport control office.
queues.
and even the nicest and most harmless-looking old lady/babushka will try to sneak in front of you in the queue. don't give up! stick out your elbows! and if someone is trying to get in front of you, just start screaming something at them, preferably in russian.
once through the passport control, quick, everyone needs to find a spot where they can light up their cigarette.
more shouting into mobile phones "i'm through! just waiting for my luggage!"
when waiting for the luggage, everyone will try to stand right at the little opening so they can grab their luggage the minute it comes rolling onto the band. once they have their stuff, the next race to the exit begins...
the morale? just give up being western. when in russia, do like the russians.
the minute the plane hits the ground, often a round of happy clapping.
the next sound is the "click" "click" "click" from all the russians immediately unfastening their seat belts.
then the mobile phones. note the plane is still rolling on the landing lane. lots of different melodies from the phones.
then lots of shouting into mobile phones "we just landed! will be out in a few minutes!"
the minute the plane stops rolling and arrives at the gate, everyone jumping out of their seats, grabbing all their belongings and running out of the plane. literally. regardless of who is in front of them, little kids, elderly ladies, handicapped people.
then a race to the passport control office.
queues.
and even the nicest and most harmless-looking old lady/babushka will try to sneak in front of you in the queue. don't give up! stick out your elbows! and if someone is trying to get in front of you, just start screaming something at them, preferably in russian.
once through the passport control, quick, everyone needs to find a spot where they can light up their cigarette.
more shouting into mobile phones "i'm through! just waiting for my luggage!"
when waiting for the luggage, everyone will try to stand right at the little opening so they can grab their luggage the minute it comes rolling onto the band. once they have their stuff, the next race to the exit begins...
the morale? just give up being western. when in russia, do like the russians.
Monday, November 14, 2005
beetroot
i am not going to blog about beetroot.
i just want to officially inform missus wonderland that:
i don't like beetroot.
i have never liked beetroot.
and i will never like beetroot.
so there.
if you ever catch me eating that sh...tuff, PLEASE SHOOT ME DEAD!!!
i just want to officially inform missus wonderland that:
i don't like beetroot.
i have never liked beetroot.
and i will never like beetroot.
so there.
if you ever catch me eating that sh...tuff, PLEASE SHOOT ME DEAD!!!
moscovites' friendliness
have you ever been to moscow? then perhaps this will sound familiar to you:
one nice fine saturday afternoon, i was walking down a street in moscow city and passing a fruit stand, i really felt like some grapes. so there i go and ask the vendor-lady for some of her grapes.
yikes.
she starts screaming at me, for no reason whatsoever.
probably she didn't like the fact that i was interrupting her chat with a non-customer.
i mean, what WAS i thinking?! she ain't there to sell her stuff and make money, no no, just to chat of course.
that is what is commonly referred to as the friendliness of moscovites.
one nice fine saturday afternoon, i was walking down a street in moscow city and passing a fruit stand, i really felt like some grapes. so there i go and ask the vendor-lady for some of her grapes.
yikes.
she starts screaming at me, for no reason whatsoever.
probably she didn't like the fact that i was interrupting her chat with a non-customer.
i mean, what WAS i thinking?! she ain't there to sell her stuff and make money, no no, just to chat of course.
that is what is commonly referred to as the friendliness of moscovites.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
russian border guards - part 1
in my work, i sometimes have to deal with various russian authorities. on some occasions with the russian border guards. now these people are tough cookies to break...
so there i go, off to some detention place to visit a few clients. i call up the head of the border guards to ask for permission to visit these people. now remember that i am female. and the interpreter who was with me that day was male. you think that doesn't matter? think again. in this part of the world, it does.
the border guard head comes out of his office and walks straight to us. he doesn't even look at me (!) but starts to talk to the interpreter straight away. because he's the man. oooops, he realises that i am actually "the boss" and turns to me, with a, let's say, not exactly friendly smile on his face. actually, forget it, there was no smile at all. of course.
after i've introduced myself and the purpose of my visit etc., the border guard head takes out his mobile phone and calls up his buddies. from the small parts of the conversation i overheard, i assume it was his buddies from the FSB.
(i suppose y'all know what the FSB is. it used to be called KGB in previous times. and the border guards service in russia ultimately falls under the FSB.)
alright, so he calls his buddies. and asks them to run a check on me. oh brother! as my friend would say. he had them check out my file before he would even talk to me!
the whole story, however, has a happy end.
i had made a new friend that day. the border guard head asked me out to the movies...
(i got out of the situation by responding only if the movie is not in russian - and that was the end of it...)
so there i go, off to some detention place to visit a few clients. i call up the head of the border guards to ask for permission to visit these people. now remember that i am female. and the interpreter who was with me that day was male. you think that doesn't matter? think again. in this part of the world, it does.
the border guard head comes out of his office and walks straight to us. he doesn't even look at me (!) but starts to talk to the interpreter straight away. because he's the man. oooops, he realises that i am actually "the boss" and turns to me, with a, let's say, not exactly friendly smile on his face. actually, forget it, there was no smile at all. of course.
after i've introduced myself and the purpose of my visit etc., the border guard head takes out his mobile phone and calls up his buddies. from the small parts of the conversation i overheard, i assume it was his buddies from the FSB.
(i suppose y'all know what the FSB is. it used to be called KGB in previous times. and the border guards service in russia ultimately falls under the FSB.)
alright, so he calls his buddies. and asks them to run a check on me. oh brother! as my friend would say. he had them check out my file before he would even talk to me!
the whole story, however, has a happy end.
i had made a new friend that day. the border guard head asked me out to the movies...
(i got out of the situation by responding only if the movie is not in russian - and that was the end of it...)
Friday, November 11, 2005
drinking vodka with russians
forget it.
don't even try.
there is NO WAY ON EARTH that one can keep up with russians when drinking vodka.
i tried.
i failed. miserably.
it was on a fine friday about 2 years ago, when i was living here for a few months. i just wanted to go for a beer and some heavily-fried food to the pub in my street with my friend (also non-russian).
so we did. we ordered our irish beer and fries and other fried stuff. at the table next to us, there were 3 fine russian ladies. with a few beers. and a bottle of vodka. the bottle was empty within no time at all. so they order more. and invite us to join in and drink with them.
stupid us. we did.
we ended up staying in the pub until after official closing time (closing time in bars are flexible in russia, often depends upon the last customer). then we headed for some snobbish club. more vodka. some dancing. more vodka. some more dancing. more vodka. some more dancing in a sort of separee. and more vodka. actually, it could also have been gin, i really don't remember anymore.
eventually we escaped and got home somewhere between 5-7 am (i think - i have very vague memories of the way back home), completely shitfaced. when we left the club, the russian chicas were still going strong on drinking and dancing...
it took us 24 hours to recover and sober up from our vodka-encounter. the whole next day (or, rather, afternoon and evening) was in a hazy blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...........................
i had learned my lesson...
don't even try.
there is NO WAY ON EARTH that one can keep up with russians when drinking vodka.
i tried.
i failed. miserably.
it was on a fine friday about 2 years ago, when i was living here for a few months. i just wanted to go for a beer and some heavily-fried food to the pub in my street with my friend (also non-russian).
so we did. we ordered our irish beer and fries and other fried stuff. at the table next to us, there were 3 fine russian ladies. with a few beers. and a bottle of vodka. the bottle was empty within no time at all. so they order more. and invite us to join in and drink with them.
stupid us. we did.
we ended up staying in the pub until after official closing time (closing time in bars are flexible in russia, often depends upon the last customer). then we headed for some snobbish club. more vodka. some dancing. more vodka. some more dancing. more vodka. some more dancing in a sort of separee. and more vodka. actually, it could also have been gin, i really don't remember anymore.
eventually we escaped and got home somewhere between 5-7 am (i think - i have very vague memories of the way back home), completely shitfaced. when we left the club, the russian chicas were still going strong on drinking and dancing...
it took us 24 hours to recover and sober up from our vodka-encounter. the whole next day (or, rather, afternoon and evening) was in a hazy blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...........................
i had learned my lesson...
migration card
when you enter russia, every foreigner has to fill in a special migration card. one half of the card is then being retained by the border guards and the second half has to be handed back in upon exiting the country again. reportedly, this was introduced because every year, around 15 million entered russia, but only 10 million exited again... the authorities had no idea where or who the remaining 5 million people are... presumably, most of those non-exiters are from the cis (former soviet union countries). and since russia has visa-free regimes with most, if not all of these countries, rather than re-introducing visa requirements for them (not possible since one of the purposes of the cis is the visa-free regime), they just introduced the famous migration card.
in any case, since early 2003, we long-term resident-expats of russia are used to this by now. not much of a big deal, a few minutes of scribbling around on the little russian/english-piece of paper.
recently, however, the migration card was revised. when i flew back into the country last week, i had my first encounter with the new card.
not sure whether the authorities are actually trying to deter foreigners to come to russia, but now the card is only in russian language, with no translation into english or any other language being provided. those poor tourists...
any other, or normal, country would actually try to make things easier for tourists, but oh no, not the russian federation!
to make things even more chaotic, of course there was no advance warning whatsoever regarding that change. it was simply changed from one day to the other. no agency servicing tourists, nor air companies, was able to prepare for the new card.
i am just waiting for the day when they will require all foreigners to fill in the migration card in russian language...
(it would be even more fun if those with grammar mistakes in russian would then be refused entry into the country)
in any case, since early 2003, we long-term resident-expats of russia are used to this by now. not much of a big deal, a few minutes of scribbling around on the little russian/english-piece of paper.
recently, however, the migration card was revised. when i flew back into the country last week, i had my first encounter with the new card.
not sure whether the authorities are actually trying to deter foreigners to come to russia, but now the card is only in russian language, with no translation into english or any other language being provided. those poor tourists...
any other, or normal, country would actually try to make things easier for tourists, but oh no, not the russian federation!
to make things even more chaotic, of course there was no advance warning whatsoever regarding that change. it was simply changed from one day to the other. no agency servicing tourists, nor air companies, was able to prepare for the new card.
i am just waiting for the day when they will require all foreigners to fill in the migration card in russian language...
(it would be even more fun if those with grammar mistakes in russian would then be refused entry into the country)
Thursday, November 10, 2005
hot water
in russia, every year, the hot water gets shut off. for one month.
(hey, at least they do it in "summertime"!)
this stems from the good old soviet times. they need to clean and "remont"/renovate the water system.
in moscow, the exact month depends on your district. in any case, you can always tell when that time of the year has started again (that is, the first district is without hot water) by the smell in the metro. actually, it's not the metro that smells, but the people.
so what does one do in these weeks?
- you go on holiday (for expats)
- you buy a water boiler (for expats)
- you go to the banya (for expats and russians)
- you go to your friends/relatives/colleagues to shower (for russians)
- you heat up water on your stove and wash yourself with that (for russians with no friends/relatives/colleagues, or russians with friends/relatives/colleagues who live in the same district)
- you simply don't shower (mainly for russian men)
how do i do it? i have a water boiler but don't know how it works so i go away during that time...
(hey, at least they do it in "summertime"!)
this stems from the good old soviet times. they need to clean and "remont"/renovate the water system.
in moscow, the exact month depends on your district. in any case, you can always tell when that time of the year has started again (that is, the first district is without hot water) by the smell in the metro. actually, it's not the metro that smells, but the people.
so what does one do in these weeks?
- you go on holiday (for expats)
- you buy a water boiler (for expats)
- you go to the banya (for expats and russians)
- you go to your friends/relatives/colleagues to shower (for russians)
- you heat up water on your stove and wash yourself with that (for russians with no friends/relatives/colleagues, or russians with friends/relatives/colleagues who live in the same district)
- you simply don't shower (mainly for russian men)
how do i do it? i have a water boiler but don't know how it works so i go away during that time...
wild wild east
the day i arrived to moscow, a duma deputy was shot dead in moscow.
2 weeks after i arrived to moscow, there was a shoot-out right in front of my office in which a mafia boss and some of his buddies were shot dead.
(it was on a sunday. the monday after, you could see the white lines drawn onto the ground...)
welcome to the wild wild east!
2 weeks after i arrived to moscow, there was a shoot-out right in front of my office in which a mafia boss and some of his buddies were shot dead.
(it was on a sunday. the monday after, you could see the white lines drawn onto the ground...)
welcome to the wild wild east!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
russian women
i told my best russian girlfriend to watch this space for my stories about my life in this crazy place.
she responded that i am being actually nice and that she can't wait to read my blog about russian women.
i ain't gonna do that.
i would have to fear for my life if i would blog about russian women.
does that say enough about this topic?
she responded that i am being actually nice and that she can't wait to read my blog about russian women.
i ain't gonna do that.
i would have to fear for my life if i would blog about russian women.
does that say enough about this topic?
riding the metro
in moscow, the metro stations are really beautiful. but that's not what i want to blog about.
there are roughly 10-12 million people living in the city, and with the suburbs it's around 12-15 million people. of course no one knows the exact figure because of the "illegals" or other people not officially registered as residents of the greater moscow area.
the moscow metro has a daily user rate of 9 million people, as they say. according to lonely planet, that is more than the new york and london underground taken together. interesting, eh.
now can you imagine how many people are whirling around in these underground passages every single day?!
the mornings are something of the worst. streams of thousands and thousands of people. literally. so when you are unlucky and you have one of them really busy stations on your way to work, oh boy... no way to avoid getting physical...
when i arrived to moscow and started using the metro, all i wanted to do once i finally got home in the evenings was to take off all my clothes and check my entire body and count all the new bruises i got that day from riding the metro. no joke.
i mean, if you are people-phobic, don't ever come to moscow. but even if you're not, be ready for some heavy body contact. you will be touched, shoved, hit, pushed, run down and over.
the best part is always when the doors open and you are trying to get in. there is so much pushing and shoving and elbowing and racing to the seats! sometimes it can be a challenge trying to get out of the waggon when everyone else is trying to get in and get that one free seat on the bench...
my advice? get some good shoes, put on a really grim look on your face, stick out your elbows and dive head-forward into the masses with an attitude that this is war!
the only way for physical survival...
there are roughly 10-12 million people living in the city, and with the suburbs it's around 12-15 million people. of course no one knows the exact figure because of the "illegals" or other people not officially registered as residents of the greater moscow area.
the moscow metro has a daily user rate of 9 million people, as they say. according to lonely planet, that is more than the new york and london underground taken together. interesting, eh.
now can you imagine how many people are whirling around in these underground passages every single day?!
the mornings are something of the worst. streams of thousands and thousands of people. literally. so when you are unlucky and you have one of them really busy stations on your way to work, oh boy... no way to avoid getting physical...
when i arrived to moscow and started using the metro, all i wanted to do once i finally got home in the evenings was to take off all my clothes and check my entire body and count all the new bruises i got that day from riding the metro. no joke.
i mean, if you are people-phobic, don't ever come to moscow. but even if you're not, be ready for some heavy body contact. you will be touched, shoved, hit, pushed, run down and over.
the best part is always when the doors open and you are trying to get in. there is so much pushing and shoving and elbowing and racing to the seats! sometimes it can be a challenge trying to get out of the waggon when everyone else is trying to get in and get that one free seat on the bench...
my advice? get some good shoes, put on a really grim look on your face, stick out your elbows and dive head-forward into the masses with an attitude that this is war!
the only way for physical survival...
felix
i am having my morning coffee and reading today's moscow times. headlines on front page: "'Iron Felix' Back at Petrovka 38".
now, only those who really know russia and/or the soviet union know what i am talking about, so let me explain for the others.
petrovka 38 is the address of the headquarters of the moscow police. you want to scare someone, you tell them you're gonna inform petrovka 38. it comes in second right after the lubyanka, the headquarters of the former kgb and of today's fsb. the lubyanka has a long history in this country.
and felix? felix is felix dzerzhinsky. he was the founder of the soviet secret police, i.e. the kgb (or, rather, the predecessor of the kgb). he was called iron felix. you wanted to strike fear into someone, you mentioned iron felix. and his friends.
during the soviet times, there was this tendency of erecting several-metre-high statues, or busts, of all sorts of important personalities of the soviet times and history. the most obvious are lenin and stalin. and felix was also one of them. there were several felix-statues all over the city, the biggest one standing in front of the kgb-headquarters on lubyanskaya ploshchad (square). they say that that one weighed 16 ton.
after/during the breakup of the soviet union, in august 1991, many of these soviet-era monuments were brought down either by angry mobs or by the authorities, fearing the mobs would bring them down. felix' bust in front of the lubyanka was brought down by the mob. the one that used to stand in the courtyard of petrovka 38 was quickly removed by the authorities.
and now?
now it was restored back to its old place in petrovka 38.
that is scary.
that is like, say, germany would re-erect old statues of hitler. or iraq, in ten years from now, re-erect old statues from saddam.
scary. just like, when you go see stalin's tomb, there are always fresh flowers...
the ironness of the soviet union ain't dead yet in this country...
now, only those who really know russia and/or the soviet union know what i am talking about, so let me explain for the others.
petrovka 38 is the address of the headquarters of the moscow police. you want to scare someone, you tell them you're gonna inform petrovka 38. it comes in second right after the lubyanka, the headquarters of the former kgb and of today's fsb. the lubyanka has a long history in this country.
and felix? felix is felix dzerzhinsky. he was the founder of the soviet secret police, i.e. the kgb (or, rather, the predecessor of the kgb). he was called iron felix. you wanted to strike fear into someone, you mentioned iron felix. and his friends.
during the soviet times, there was this tendency of erecting several-metre-high statues, or busts, of all sorts of important personalities of the soviet times and history. the most obvious are lenin and stalin. and felix was also one of them. there were several felix-statues all over the city, the biggest one standing in front of the kgb-headquarters on lubyanskaya ploshchad (square). they say that that one weighed 16 ton.
after/during the breakup of the soviet union, in august 1991, many of these soviet-era monuments were brought down either by angry mobs or by the authorities, fearing the mobs would bring them down. felix' bust in front of the lubyanka was brought down by the mob. the one that used to stand in the courtyard of petrovka 38 was quickly removed by the authorities.
and now?
now it was restored back to its old place in petrovka 38.
that is scary.
that is like, say, germany would re-erect old statues of hitler. or iraq, in ten years from now, re-erect old statues from saddam.
scary. just like, when you go see stalin's tomb, there are always fresh flowers...
the ironness of the soviet union ain't dead yet in this country...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
candy
last saturday night, i went to a club for a concert of a local moscovite band.
as usual (for security reasons), you have to go through some security checks, through the metall detector that always beeeeeeeeeeeeps (but no one really pays much attention to) and show them the contents of your handbag.
so in mine, since i was feeling a bit rough in the throat, i had one piece of candy.
can you believe it?!?!?! i was not allowed to take that one piece of candy into the club!!!
but no problem taking in your mobile phone, camera and what not into the club, but not your candy!!! no problem for chewing gum, though.
does that make sense to you? to me, no. really no... i just don't see the security threat emanating from a piece of candy...
(btw, i was allowed to pick up my candy again on my way out. i thought screw them, but my russian friend insisted on getting it back, "out of principle"...)
as usual (for security reasons), you have to go through some security checks, through the metall detector that always beeeeeeeeeeeeps (but no one really pays much attention to) and show them the contents of your handbag.
so in mine, since i was feeling a bit rough in the throat, i had one piece of candy.
can you believe it?!?!?! i was not allowed to take that one piece of candy into the club!!!
but no problem taking in your mobile phone, camera and what not into the club, but not your candy!!! no problem for chewing gum, though.
does that make sense to you? to me, no. really no... i just don't see the security threat emanating from a piece of candy...
(btw, i was allowed to pick up my candy again on my way out. i thought screw them, but my russian friend insisted on getting it back, "out of principle"...)
"devushka"
that is russian for "girl".
now, every female human being is considered a devushka from age 10 to 59. from around 60, you go directly to being called "babushka", grandmother.
when i moved here, i could just not get used to the fact that everyone is addressing me as devuskha. i had serious internal resistance against that. and i was just not capable of realising that people meant me when they were screaming at me DEVUSHKA.
you know, you walk down the street and someone stops you to ask for the time or so. they will address you as "devushka, can you please tell me the time?", rather than "excuse me, could you please be so kind as to tell me what's the time?"
(actually, forget the please, they will say "devushka, what's the time!")
in any case, i had such an internal aggression against that word. call me chick, lady, idiot, whatever, but not girl.
(for men, the equivalent is "molodoy chelovek", literally translated: "young person". go figure...)
and nowadays? i automatically turn my head when i hear "devushka!"...
and i call all the waitresses in restaurants and bars with "DEVUSHKAAAAAAAAA!"
now, every female human being is considered a devushka from age 10 to 59. from around 60, you go directly to being called "babushka", grandmother.
when i moved here, i could just not get used to the fact that everyone is addressing me as devuskha. i had serious internal resistance against that. and i was just not capable of realising that people meant me when they were screaming at me DEVUSHKA.
you know, you walk down the street and someone stops you to ask for the time or so. they will address you as "devushka, can you please tell me the time?", rather than "excuse me, could you please be so kind as to tell me what's the time?"
(actually, forget the please, they will say "devushka, what's the time!")
in any case, i had such an internal aggression against that word. call me chick, lady, idiot, whatever, but not girl.
(for men, the equivalent is "molodoy chelovek", literally translated: "young person". go figure...)
and nowadays? i automatically turn my head when i hear "devushka!"...
and i call all the waitresses in restaurants and bars with "DEVUSHKAAAAAAAAA!"
Monday, November 07, 2005
salad dressing
on my very first day at work in russia, i go to have lunch in the office kitchen. the cook handed me my plate, as well as some salad. without any dressing. because, as she explained me, the salad dressing is on the table and i can just serve myself of it as much as i want.
okeydokey, i think, cool. i look around the table and i just can't find any salad dressing. so i ask my new colleagues about it and they hand me something. mayonnaise. pure mayo. i look at them and go "but that's mayonnaise"? they reply "of course, you said you wanted salad dressing".
that was my first encounter with salad dressing a la russe.
by now i have come to understand that, indeed, salad dressing in russia means PURE MAYONNAISE and nothing else.
needless to say that i have gone off eating too many salads unless i can do the salad dressing myself...
okeydokey, i think, cool. i look around the table and i just can't find any salad dressing. so i ask my new colleagues about it and they hand me something. mayonnaise. pure mayo. i look at them and go "but that's mayonnaise"? they reply "of course, you said you wanted salad dressing".
that was my first encounter with salad dressing a la russe.
by now i have come to understand that, indeed, salad dressing in russia means PURE MAYONNAISE and nothing else.
needless to say that i have gone off eating too many salads unless i can do the salad dressing myself...
24-hour supermarkets and others
you know these 24-hour supermarkets? a really great invention, especially for people who have long working hours.
in russia, you see lots of 24-hour shops, kiosks, restaurants, hairdressers, etc.
as i said, a great invention.
but in russia, things work the russian way. so even if it says 24-hour, that doesn't mean it will indeed be 24 hours.
you get there at, say, 4 in the morning and you'll find a sign: "technical break from 2 - 6am".
hi hi, that's the russian understanding of 24-hour...
in russia, you see lots of 24-hour shops, kiosks, restaurants, hairdressers, etc.
as i said, a great invention.
but in russia, things work the russian way. so even if it says 24-hour, that doesn't mean it will indeed be 24 hours.
you get there at, say, 4 in the morning and you'll find a sign: "technical break from 2 - 6am".
hi hi, that's the russian understanding of 24-hour...
Friday, November 04, 2005
toilet paper
you think this sounds boring as a title?
ha! it ain't...
my sister used to live in russia 3 years ago. in st. petersburg. so when i moved here, to moscow, she came to visit me over the weekend. i took her to the semi-western supermarket just across my street. and there she stood! in front of the shelve with all the toilet paper. she could hardly believe it - imagine that! several different brands of toilet paper! she was happy as a little kid...
because in her shops in st. petersburg, you were lucky to find 2 different brands of toilet paper. all the same. hard carton-paper basically... you know, the old soviet toilet paper...
my sister thought that living in moscow is no fun, is no adventure, when you can buy the smooth fine toilet paper like we know from western europe. life's too easy here in moscow, she said.
it's the small things that count in life!
ha! it ain't...
my sister used to live in russia 3 years ago. in st. petersburg. so when i moved here, to moscow, she came to visit me over the weekend. i took her to the semi-western supermarket just across my street. and there she stood! in front of the shelve with all the toilet paper. she could hardly believe it - imagine that! several different brands of toilet paper! she was happy as a little kid...
because in her shops in st. petersburg, you were lucky to find 2 different brands of toilet paper. all the same. hard carton-paper basically... you know, the old soviet toilet paper...
my sister thought that living in moscow is no fun, is no adventure, when you can buy the smooth fine toilet paper like we know from western europe. life's too easy here in moscow, she said.
it's the small things that count in life!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
floodings
i was meant to blog much more. but again life had caught up with me and didn't provide me with the time to write at all.
have been travelling a lot lately and just came back from africa. on some days i wonder whether there is much of a difference between africa and russia. yeah yeah, i know, things are even harsher in africa, but the first-world-moments are rare in this country.
like with floodings in your apartment. within less than one year, my apartment managed to twice flood the ones below it. i suppose i am not very liked by my downstairs-neighbours...
this is pretty normal in this country. many people have flooding problems in their apartments. for all sorts of reasons, bad material (like using the wrong screw - that was my first flooding incident), bad pipes, bad renovation/installation (that was my second flooding incident), etc.
so i had my bridget-jones-moment. it was about one o'clock in the morning and i had just come out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. and the screw burst and with it the pipe got loose and the whole water of the city was unleashed into my apartment. at least that's how it felt like. i was banging on the doors of my neighbours to get some help, still in my towel, but no one even opened the door. lovely. the waterfall in my bathroom lasted for about one hour until the sanitary guys finally managed to shut it all off. i was told afterwards that i had flooded 9 floors below me... i don't dare imagine how those flats looked like, i just remember mine, water literally all over, in every corner of every room... my 70-something-year old babushka-neighbour was helping me get rid of the water in my flat, soaking up probably hundreds of liters of water, until the early hours of the night. and after some 3 hours of sleep, i had to find some dry clothes and go to a really important meeting at work...
the second time was less bad but meaner. i went to bed and slept my sweet dreams all through the night and was woken up by the sanitary guys screaming at me why i am, again, flooding the building. turns out, sometimes throughout the night, when i was sleeping, again my bathroom decided to go nuts and pour some water down... just great. one goes innocently to bed at night and wakes up in the morning just to find a whole new catastrophy in one's place.
of course my landlady was screaming at me as well. russian landladies are a whole own chapter, or blog.
now, my apartment is not the regular russian type, that is, it is big, nice, newly renovated and i surely pay enough money for my little luxury. yet not even in such a place one can be secure from all sorts of things going wrong. i know so many people who have had floodings in their apartments here in russia, yet i know no one to whom this has happened in the west.
in moments like this, i go crazy in this place. perhaps i should start a petition for a right to floodless-living in russia...
have been travelling a lot lately and just came back from africa. on some days i wonder whether there is much of a difference between africa and russia. yeah yeah, i know, things are even harsher in africa, but the first-world-moments are rare in this country.
like with floodings in your apartment. within less than one year, my apartment managed to twice flood the ones below it. i suppose i am not very liked by my downstairs-neighbours...
this is pretty normal in this country. many people have flooding problems in their apartments. for all sorts of reasons, bad material (like using the wrong screw - that was my first flooding incident), bad pipes, bad renovation/installation (that was my second flooding incident), etc.
so i had my bridget-jones-moment. it was about one o'clock in the morning and i had just come out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. and the screw burst and with it the pipe got loose and the whole water of the city was unleashed into my apartment. at least that's how it felt like. i was banging on the doors of my neighbours to get some help, still in my towel, but no one even opened the door. lovely. the waterfall in my bathroom lasted for about one hour until the sanitary guys finally managed to shut it all off. i was told afterwards that i had flooded 9 floors below me... i don't dare imagine how those flats looked like, i just remember mine, water literally all over, in every corner of every room... my 70-something-year old babushka-neighbour was helping me get rid of the water in my flat, soaking up probably hundreds of liters of water, until the early hours of the night. and after some 3 hours of sleep, i had to find some dry clothes and go to a really important meeting at work...
the second time was less bad but meaner. i went to bed and slept my sweet dreams all through the night and was woken up by the sanitary guys screaming at me why i am, again, flooding the building. turns out, sometimes throughout the night, when i was sleeping, again my bathroom decided to go nuts and pour some water down... just great. one goes innocently to bed at night and wakes up in the morning just to find a whole new catastrophy in one's place.
of course my landlady was screaming at me as well. russian landladies are a whole own chapter, or blog.
now, my apartment is not the regular russian type, that is, it is big, nice, newly renovated and i surely pay enough money for my little luxury. yet not even in such a place one can be secure from all sorts of things going wrong. i know so many people who have had floodings in their apartments here in russia, yet i know no one to whom this has happened in the west.
in moments like this, i go crazy in this place. perhaps i should start a petition for a right to floodless-living in russia...
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
why my blog
very easy.
because i don't have a therapist.
so my blog is going to be about everything and nothing.
and i don't expect any wise advice back.
(you hear that, you living in wonderland? you know who you are.)
because i don't have a therapist.
so my blog is going to be about everything and nothing.
and i don't expect any wise advice back.
(you hear that, you living in wonderland? you know who you are.)
Sunday, September 25, 2005
why russia
i am not sure if i should really write about this.
but of course i have asked myself that question before.
many times.
so have others.
it is not always bad here. there are things i really like about living in russia.
but...
the real reason was my job. of course. what else. i don't think anything else would have made me move here.
so now i have been here for a little over two and a half years. which seems like a long time at times.
i am russified.
the worst is, when i am outside of russia, i do miss it. sometimes. some things about it at least.
like, life can be very exciting here. but also very exhausting and tiring and stressful.
after some time, you become like me.
crazy in russia.
and that's when you start your own blog...
but of course i have asked myself that question before.
many times.
so have others.
it is not always bad here. there are things i really like about living in russia.
but...
the real reason was my job. of course. what else. i don't think anything else would have made me move here.
so now i have been here for a little over two and a half years. which seems like a long time at times.
i am russified.
the worst is, when i am outside of russia, i do miss it. sometimes. some things about it at least.
like, life can be very exciting here. but also very exhausting and tiring and stressful.
after some time, you become like me.
crazy in russia.
and that's when you start your own blog...
Friday, September 23, 2005
me
who am i? no, no, don't worry, this is no philosophical question. just some basic info on me myself and i.
i am a mix between eastern and western europe. white. female. not married. no children. which can be an issue sometimes when living in russia.
and this is where i currently am living.
russia.
crazy in russia.
that's me.
i am a mix between eastern and western europe. white. female. not married. no children. which can be an issue sometimes when living in russia.
and this is where i currently am living.
russia.
crazy in russia.
that's me.
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