Final Report

I have woken up at noon on my last full day in Russia. Miraculously the sun is shining with only a few lonely clouds in the sky, an absolutely beautiful day, but instead of fully appreciating it as I should, I just wish that it is like this tomorrow for my flight. And while this may be the last of my blog entries (I may still post a follow up from home and will probably start a new “normal life” and/or skateboarding one), it doesn't really feel like the end, but only the beginning of something. Of what I don't know, I don't really know where life takes me from here. As for my experience here, every day and minute may not have been fun, but they were all great in their own way. I would possibly describe my experience as a 4 month party, but it was also one of the most educating experiences of my life. I admit that I didn't learn as much Russian as I had hoped for, but then again I probably expected too much of myself and hoped for what would have been a miracle. But on the flip side of that, I helped a lot of people with their English and taught them a lot of good slang. I also think that what I didn't learn of Russian I learned about myself and life itself. I'm not going to try and claim that I learned the meaning of life or anything, but I think I may have learned what it means to live and what it is I need to do in life-but in other ways I'm probably more confused about the future than I've ever been, but that's kinda the point of it all. If you knew everything that was going to happen it wouldn't be all that fun. If you landed every trick you ever tried you wouldn't appreciate a one of them. I think I also learned about appreciation and being thankful for what I have and have been given, because I really have a lot, and even “have” what it is I lack through its absence. It has been a wonderful experience which I would recommend to anybody. I have learned new styles, and found new inspirations, and of course made many great friends, some of which I know I will never see again, but would rather think of the hope and possibility of seeing one or two of them again. They have given me all kinds of inspiration and countless stories to tell in the future; from the French not liking to wear pants, to the African pissing in the corner of the indoor soccer field. I learned things about Russia, Russian life and culture you could never learn in a text book. I learned what the difference is between 10,000+ people per sq km and 600 per sq km. I also learned what home is. What a big fat dog can mean and represent to me, as well as what a smile can do for you. I just hope that what I have learned stays with me and is not beaten back to the deeper recesses of my brain and forgotten by the normality of home life. I hope I can stay motivated and inspired, I really like some of my new ideas and think they have the possibility to take me somewhere and bring happiness to myself and others. I discovered that I love to play goalkeeper in soccer and hope I can find a team at home. I discovered the true meaning of skateboarding to me. I rediscovered writing, and realized that I can write about anything and in different ways-even my take on skateboarding and life in general.
I'm kinda sad to leave Moscow and my friends, but at the same time I am extremely excited to go home and see my family and friends. It actually worries me how excited I am to go home. This level of excitement can only lead to disappointment. It seems that anything I've ever wanted this bad never happens: my pessimism envisions airport delays, airport worker strikes, plane crashes, hijackings, anything that could change my plans. I should mention that I hate flying, especially these long flights. You're trapped in a giant tube in a tiny seat surrounded by a bunch of people. There is nothing to see and nothing to do but hope you somehow sleep through it and wake up on the other side of the world. Not to mention customs-ugh-I get it on both sides this time: you have to go through customs leaving Russia, and then again in the USA. But enough of that. There is so much I could say and write about regarding my experience, what I've seen, and what I have learned, but at this time I think it best just to wrap it up. To do so I'd like to thank those who've made my experience and time so great and special, and taught me so much, here: Karstar, JJ, Q-Murder, Iizy, G-Money, Odo, Matterazzi, Celery Stick, and more. And of course my readers, friends, and family at home: Terminator-T, General Paulus, G-Daddy and the Goony Bird, Moragami, Mikromathematics, Gary Goodfella, P-Strong, K-ed, the random reader, and many more.
I love you all, you really mean the world to me, and I hope to see you all in the nearest future.

White Christmas

It is looking like I'll have a white Christmas here in Moscow. It has been snowing off and on for the last two days and it has left a decent coating on the streets, sidewalks, trees, etc. Though I'm sad that I won't be home with my family for Christmas, I am confident that I will have a good one with my roommates. For each of us it will be our first Christmas away from home, but we've worked together pretty well to plan what should be a good time; we agreed on no gifts, but a good dinner, some Christmas songs, and the drinking of a lot of Gluhwein planned. Our home internet has been dead for over 2 weeks, but in the act of some sort of miracle it started working (and then died again) and completed the download of A Christmas Story and almost finished It's a Wonderful Life-I'm hoping for another internet miracle tonight. Anyways, I don't really have anything to say, I just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas, tell you all to be safe and enjoy the time, remember the true meaning of Christmas and don't cry if you don't get that ipod or whatever, be happy with what you have because most have so much less. Also keep in mind your friends who are suffering and going through rough times, I have some friends undergoing cancer treatments so pray for them, remember the homeless and the lonely, those with nowhere to go and nobody to be with. Regardless of your political views, remember the soldiers overseas, some surrounded by hate who can't be with their families. I think Christmas is a time to be thankful for what you have and to work to help others, not a time to be selfish; if you're stuck in Moscow, be happy you have good friends; if you're stuck in Cincinnati, be happy you're not with Joe Dees in Moscow. Just don't get down on yourselves, feel good and spread the cheer. Well I hope all of your Christmas wishes come true, my only wish is to see that big dog, but I'm willing to wait for something so good.

Post Christmas update: Everything went really well and was a lot of fun. We all drank more than our share and ate until we were full, we sang Christmas songs and even did some dancing. I hope everybody out there had as good of a Christmas as me. I even got my "miracle" and watched It's a Wonderful Life, which like always made me bawl my eyes out-so good. The strangest part of it all was how it felt like Christmas in my heart, but walking around outside the city was still just as angry and busy as ever-"do they know it's Christmas time at all?"

Fondue and Friendly Faces

Here I sit, watching the time tick by as I await the hour of departure, like a condemned man I feel both short of time and like the world has slowed its rotation. Things are good here, it has gotten a little cold and a thin blanket of slow gives the trees a soft and friendly disposition, but at the same time I dream of seeing the sun shine over the rolling Kentucky hills, being received with a friendly smile and thank you after patronizing a store, simple organization, and being shown that ever taken for granted American respect for one another's space. America was founded on space you know. Moscow, Russia is definitely a fun place, but I rarely feel welcomed around the city, the exceptions being when I visit a friend's. Last night was such an occasion. Karsten, his girlfriend, Q-Murder, Juliet, and I were invited to Irina and Evelyn's for a fondue party and found it to be most enjoyable and hospitable. I myself had never been to a fondue party, but found it a lot of fun; it was fromage (cheese), chocolate, and an abundance of wine; of course I was going to like it. Now the hangover from said wine lasted well past noon today, which was truly a blessing in disguise. For it was around 2 o'clock that I managed to drag myself to the 5th Circle to retrieve my passport/visa. And after a 45min wait in the hot, crowded, and stuffy hallway I got into the office to get my stuff, after which I hurried away never minding the 2 snobby, whored up skanks who entered after me, snaking the entire line who had been waiting-- it was not my job to deliver their return for such inconsiderate acts, that is Karma's job, but judging by the respect they gave to themselves, it was no surprise they showed such respect for everyone else, and I believe their turn will definitely come. But my wait ended up being for the good, for on the way home I happened, by pure chance to meet the other (previously only rumored about urban legends) Americans that are here on campus. I was just walking down the sidewalk and heard the sound of well spoken, real English, complete with terms like: "those motherfuckers can fuck theirselves with that shit." "Americans!" I thought excitedly. Turning around I saw the faces of two self-respecting African-Americans (there are many Africans on campus, but you could see the American in these guys' eyes) laughing and smiling as they walked. "Are you American?!" I asked. "Yeah! You?" they responded in equal surprise and excitement. They're from Boston; good Sox and Celtic fans, and had a friend with them from "the good part of Jersey." It was, and they agreed, great to speak freely with another Americans, aside from the d-bag tourists you find on Red Square or wherever. The one even said, "it's wild to just meet somebody and not have to speak slowly to assure their understanding."
Either way I feel that my mission to Russia is now complete and I can go home happy (I still have 19 days) since I met the fabled "other Americans." My French friends have begun their exodus for the Christmas holiday, Celine left this morning, a few others this afternoon, and Juliet will on Saturday. It is really sad to see them go, knowing that more than likely I will never see them again, yet they meant so much to me, and did so much for me over the past few months. But I guess life moves on, and if we still saw and talked to everyone we ever befriended our lives would be too busy and crowded to spend time with those we are truly lucky to be close with. Everybody plays a role in the scripts that are our lives, some have bit parts, some cameos, and some have their names in the opening titles; but either way we all have our roles and influence one another. Not to mention the great differences which keep us separated: with some it is true, measured distance; some it is the impossible to measure distance of death; and with others it is not physical distance at all, we can be just mere feet from one another, looking into one another's eyes, but by various motives we refuse to have anything more to do with one another, regardless of what we meant and did before. I believe that anyone can be strong with a good, strong friend by his/her side, but to march on alone after your friends and comrades are gone takes true strength and courage; and it is this courage that finds the next friend and the next scene of our lives. Sometimes we must be the one who falls out and goes our own way, and sometimes we must be the one from whom is departed, but either way we must be strong and never forget that which we were given by those of our past.

Randomness

I don't know where this will go, but let's see. First off, I'll talk about how awesome it was last night when I went out to an "American" restaurant (we were told it was Mexican-I wouldn't go to an "American" restaurant) that was some weird pseudo-Western restaurant with cowboy stuff everywhere, and instead of being greeted by the typical, extremely loud "UMPTS! UMPTS! UMPTS!" of bad techno, I was greeted by Willie fuckin' Nelson! It was awesome. I can hardly express how great it was to hear the classic country soundtrack of Waylon, Johnny Cash, Willie, Patsy Cline, Hank SR and more. It was like a quiet piece of heaven in the middle of chaos. Seriously, I've gotten to the point that when I go to a restaurant I am relieved if they're playing the original Justin Timberlake or Britney Spears song instead of the techno remix, and to hear Folsom Prison Blues...sunshine after a bad storm. My date thought it was crazy that I knew all the words, she'd never even heard of the people we were listening to, like she looked up at the picture of Roy Rogers above our table and asked who he was. At one point I heard Lorreta Lynn singing Coal Miner's Daughter and thought of John Denver's lyrics in Country Roads: "I hear her voice in the morning as she calls to me, THE RADIO REMINDS ME OF MY HOME FAR AWAY, driving down the road I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday, yesterday." Call me weird or whatever, but it was so great to hear the songs that remind me of drinking beer, working on cars, and bonding with my father. I think Irina thought I was weird, she even said I might be the strangest person she's ever met, but I take it as a compliment-especially considering that she asked me out again for tonight.
I counted and realized today that I have exactly 1 month left in Moscow. I find that to be really sad, but kinda cool. I've really been enjoying my time here, especially lately I've been having a lot of fun and been feeling great. The city is absolutely incredible and I suggest everybody check it out at least once in their lives, though you'll need more than once to really see and experience it. But at the same time I'm ready for the slow, organized, and relaxed atmosphere of the Kentucky side of Cincinnati. It's all had me reflecting on my experience and thinking, "what have I learned here?" Yeah, I've learned a lot about Russia, the Russians, and Russian, but the biggest thing I've learned is about myself and life in general. I don't want to say that I've found enlightenment or the meaning of life, but I've learned that it really is the small things in life that make it great, yeah the big moments are exciting and can feel triumphant, but it's the little things (especially your own outlook on life) that make life enjoyable and give you happiness. You can't depend on other people to make you happy, if you can't make yourself happy, how can you expect somebody else to do so? But at the same time our own happiness is dependent on others, our lives are all interconnected. We must work everyday to be happy and give happiness to others, we really must treat others the way we would want to be treated, we must be patient with one another, and must feel compassion for your neighbors. We are given but one life (more or less), and once you die you're dead-regardless of the existence of Heaven, Hell, or Reincarnation. You must be confident in yourself and happy in this life, for that is what it is all about, and if there is something afterwards, I think a happy mindset helps you achieve that afterlife which you desire. I think to be genuinely happy you must be good, and according to everything I've read, being good is a prerequisite for that positive afterlife. I don't know, I think happiness is completely exclusive from material possessions, you can be happy with nothing or everything if you put your mind to it and enjoy life for what it is. We can't live just for today, and we can't live just for tomorrow, we must learn the proper balance of the two.
I can also announce that I have what I think is < 90% of my souvenir/Christmas shopping done, which feels really good. But I have one or 2 more things that may or not bring adventure in my quest to buy them-every day out is an adventure for me, it's just the level of adventure that changes. I really can't walk about Moscow without being stared at, I don't know what it is, but it makes some of my friends nervous, and occasionally makes me nervous too. Maybe I'll write about the Izmailovsky Market later, or maybe you can just google it, either way it is an awesome place filled with crazy stuff. I just hope I haven't forgotten anybody (which is most likely inevitable no matter how well I've planned and organized my shopping list) and that everybody likes their haul. Anyways, I'm sure there is more randomness of which to speak, we all know how long winded I can be, but I'll call this entry a game. Until next time, be happy and have fun, I'll see you all soon, and try to write even sooner.

AIM

I signed up for an Aol Instant Messenger account. My screenname is DeezSkateboards so add me and look for for online.

First Snow

As I sit by the window watching the snow continue to gently fall outside I am reminded that I haven't posted a blog in a long time, but I don't really know what to say. I guess we'll just see where it goes. Today was the day of the first snow of the winter in Moscow (November 20th), well it actually began to snow lightly yesterday, but today is when it really started to fall and accumulate. The snow is rather beautiful as it blankets the city, but even more beautiful when it is accompanied by the picturesque scenes of little Russian churches, so today I went on a little excursion after class. [side story: it is really funny how even though there is a couple inches of snow on the ground and the sidewalks are largely uncleared, the Russian women still wear giant 4in heels, and to watch them cling to each other for balance as they creep along the icy sidewalk being swiftly passed by the men and more practical girls wearing regular shoes or boots is of great entertainment to me.] For my expedition in the snow I went to Gorky Park to take some cool snow pictures (I got a couple, I'll try and post my favorite-a little church outside Gorky Park near Metro station Oktyabrskaya). The first thing I see as I step out of the Metro car at station Oktyabrskaya is a police officer standing over and guarding the body of (what looked to be) a homeless man who had died on the bench. The officer was impatiently and repeatedly checking his watch as he was presumably waiting for whomever was to come and collect the body, all the while the gray, hollow eyes of the man stared into the infinite that was the passing trains. I only glanced for a second to see why the милиционер was standing there, but the yellow/gray skin on the shocked looking face of the dead man will probably stick with me for years, with the sound of the girls in front of me giggling in my ears. And so my life moves on. Stepping outside the Metro station I found it to be snowing harder than it was when I entered, with the wind blowing sternly and freshly in my face, but the dead man hung on my heart and I somehow found the city quieter than I ever had before, yet the sidewalks were still bustling and traffic was chaotic like usual; he was but one in a city of millions, and it seemed that the biggest event in his being just passed on unnoticed and without the concern of the city who claimed him. Gorky Park itself was very quiet and lifeless, its large gate beckoning those who pass, its entrances opened wide, but with very few footprints leading in or out. Inside the snow seemed thicker and heavier than outside, and just the several feet that separated the inside from the outside seemed to make a whole world of difference-I felt like I was no longer in “the city,” but somewhere else; somewhere serene, sane, and welcoming. Looking about I saw a few figures moving against the snow in the distance, but I was alone-oh the glory and greatness of finding anywhere to be alone when you live in a cramped apartment with 6 roommates in the overcrowded city of Moscow! It no longer felt cold, but rather warm and homely with a safe feeling, even though I was probably the most vulnerable I have been in the city. It was still light out, maybe 4:00 but the clouds and snow gave everything a dusky feel, but as I wondered about taking photos of that which interested me I was approached by a security guard who informed me that the park was closed; from what I understood from him it closes at sunset (which wasn't technically for another hour at least), but I guess considering that the sun never really rose, it was that dude's discretion as to closing time-yet 2 douchebags walked on by without being told to leave...go figure...it is Russia. For example: If you go to the Kremlin they will try to rip you off. There is a price for Russians (75rubles), a price for foreigners (350rubles), and a price for any student (50rubles). Upon showing my Russian University ID card I was told that it wasn't good enough, she wanted my American student ID (keep in mind I don't carry it because nobody has ever accepted it), I lied and said that I only studied in Russia so that was my only ID, to which she told me I was иностранец (foreign) so I needed a foreign ID. Then when I disagreed she refused to sell me a ticket at all for 5 minutes. Finally, she offered to sell me one for the full foreign price, which I took, but that day was ruined on account of the resulting bad mood, so now I have to go back to the Kremlin (I forgot my camera that time anyways). I guess the first thing you have to learn in Russia is that you can't win, which is a difficult thing for old Joe Dees. It really is just odd, the lack of respect shown for people in Moscow is mind blowing, especially when you befriend a Russian and meet their hospitality. They offer you anything and will give you whatever you need, but on the streets with strangers it is a jungle in which the slow are trampled under foot, pedestrians are targets for drivers, and the fact that the train will leave at the same time whether you or I enter first is completely irrelevant so people are pushed aside at will. Being a good Kentucky boy used to the slow and easy suburban life where there is always space to be found makes it a bit hard at times, but I think I get by OK with the help of the Dalai Lama's teachings, my mp3s (to remind me of good music-Russian pop is absolutely horrid and ubiquitous), and the half liters of Lowenbrau that cost 30rubles downstairs. I've found new sources of patience in recent weeks, and take great pleasure in the very small things of life while dreaming of the simple things we take for granted at home: washing machines, personal space, non-smoking sections, the people in front of you in line at McDonald's not rehearsing for their porno film, etc. And even though Russia is always trying to drag me down, such as my phone liking to not let me get important calls; last weekend as I sat home bored and alone, designing skateboard graphics I'll never use, a friend tried to call me to hangout but my phone was “out of service” and I received the text message she then sent at 10:30 at like 4AM or something!!!, or how I searched for over an hour for a monument that must be hidden in plain sight-- when I checked Google Earth I discovered that I had to have walked by the 75ft behemoth 3 times (or else they have removed one of the most famous and award winning Soviet sculptures), not to mention finding that the Russian government censors tourist/interesting spots on Google Earth; I still walk around with my head held high and a smile on my face for no real reason-and I get funny looks for it too, men in Russia are supposed to scowl or something. And even though class is long, extremely boring, feels like high school all over again, and I've neared and possibly passed the “burnout” phase, I still get the opportunity (when I skip class, sshhh don't tell anyone) to go out and see Moscow for what it is at this point in its history. I get to see its world split between its regal, Imperial, and religious years, its “glorious” Soviet past, the horrors of the 1990s, and the current state of capitalist boom/rush to the future while trying to glorify what has been. I get to see the poor beggars who had put their entire lives into the now extinct Soviet system, banking on its social security system walk by brand new Bentleys. I see once heralded structures of architectural masterpiece crumble for lack of need in an overgrown park while the everyday Russian smiles in its cold shadow selling whatever wears she can tote in her bags. (Like I was speaking of before, if there is a face it is extremely friendly, but where no faces are seen all rules and respect are missing.) It truly is a great and mysterious place worthy of its enigmatic reputation, Mother Russia. If only I had a little more patience, or maybe some more personal space in which to relax, and if they didn't wear so much damn fur (it is sickening to me), I think I could like this place quite a bit, but then again I think that its odd and contradictory nature is what attracted me to her in the first place.

Злой Заяц

Hoody Hooo!!!! Halloween got way out of control! It turned out just like an American Halloween party-- the French did a pretty good job of getting into the spirit. The entire Halloween Party Checklist was checked off: drunkenness, pumpkins, bobbing for apples, bad costumes, good costumes, somebody hooked up with a random girl/guy, somebody puked, hooliganism, candy, a scuffle, horror movies, a visit (or 2) from the authorities...the whole nine yards, I guess I did a pretty good job bringing Halloween to Moscow. Let's go through the list.
Drunkenness: We had a fridge full of beer, several bottles of vodka, some wine, and a tub of punch/hooch (the kind with the fruit in it), and some people brought their own booze! Glasses were broken, the floor turned black from who knows what, pieces of costumes were found everywhere, people lost cell phones...it was great.
Pumpkins: After a rather lengthy search through the рынок my roommates and I found pumpkins and our costumes. Our costumes ranged from good to bad: mine was bad-I was a ninja; Karsten's was really good-he was an old Russian lady, a Babushka. The pumpkins were strange, we payed almost $20 for a decent sized one and a rather small one, and I learned that Russian pumpkins are different than American ones. First off they're not as orange, and secondly they're much harder to carve due to having a lot more “meat” to them. I figure that they've been bred differently from the ones at home since here people buy them to cook and make food from and at home we just have fun cutting them up and smashing them. But I got them carved and think I did a really good job of it, especially when considering that the pressure was on, everybody was watching and expecting great things. The first, the big one is just a classic pumpkin head, and the little one is what I call Злой Заяц or The Evil Hare.
Costumes: People did a really good job getting creative. You have to remember that there is no tradition of Halloween in their culture, and no Halloween Expresses in Moscow, yet some of these people had costumes that would be good and could maybe win prizes at an American party. My favorites were Gui2 dressing as Heath Ledger's Joker (very well too), Karsten as the Babushka, Yuri dressed as a mummy (wrapping himself in toilet paper), and Orlando's werewolf.
Love: Orlando was spotted on the balcony making out with some Russian girl we met while playing football last week, and they didn't complain when they were locked out there and the curtains drawn.
Ralphing: Yuri. Dude won the Ghoul of the Night Award. He was the drunkest, had tons of fun, the mummy costume was great (we are still finding pieces of it in random places 20+ hours later), and he finished the night like a true ghoul: puking in his bathroom sink.
Hooliganism: Some of the French enjoyed the old game of ringing doorbells and running like hell, and one of the French girls (probably the most refined of them too) enjoyed a round of throwing apple cores at cars on the street.
The fight: While Yuri was puking I went to check on him and found him in a hilarious position sitting on the edge of the bathtub leaning against the sink so I wanted a picture, but when I tried I got attacked by one of the French girls. Then 20 minutes later she came back to my apartment so I told her to leave in 3 languages (Karsten was delighted when I got really upset and went to German “Aus! Aus Mein Haus! Schnell!), and when she didn't I threw a glass of water in her face (she left). Then 5-10 minutes later her friend, another French girl came, took my glass and threw the water in my face, which was cool and what I deserved, but then she raised the glass like she was going to hit me with it, at which time I grabbed her by the throat, held her at arm's length and showed her the door. There was massive drama and chaos. Some people disappeared and others found it funny when I said that it was typical of Halloween. On the whole it was a bad situation whose fall-out has yet to be seen, I honestly think I really fucked up. This may require a good old-fashioned American Thanksgiving dinner to make peace... But on with the story.
Authorities: The командант made 2 appearances, the first rather early. She laughed at our costumes and gave us a warning about something or other. Then at almost 1AM she showed up again, this time angry and making everybody who didn't live in the building leave, which didn't faze Orlando who was locked on the balcony or stop the French from going crazy-- it was before the drama. So on this front I think I'm winning, nobody else's parties have brought 2 visits from the authorities...Ah Halloween, always a good time. As The Misfits said: “this day anything goes.” I hope you guys all had a good Halloween with plenty of ghouls, fun, and chaos.