Собачки Москвы

I struggle to stroll about Moscow viewing the many beautiful sights without having my heart broken. There are thousands, I estimate (with no real evidence, simply a guess) that there are well more than 100,000 stray dogs in Moscow. They mostly look rather similar to one another, some type of shepard or hound mix of medium size, I really can't tell, but sometimes you see one resembling a Chow, or some type of terrier; however they all have a look about them and you can tell they are Russian and one of Moscow's Dogs-much like how you can often tell a Russian by the look in their eye regardless of race or ethnic background. It is hard to describe and guess how many of these dogs live in the city, you can hardly walk about a Metro station without seeing one or two. One is sleeping in the corner by a kiosk while another sits outside in a patch of grass near the stairs watching the people go by. It is also interesting to note that in my three weeks here I have only seen one feral cat, a scarcity that may be related to the preponderance of dogs roaming the same streets; or maybe the cats are more shy and keep to the shadows and alleys, I don't know. From what I understand from asking around, Moscow has no type of animal control, shelters, or programs to help or eradicate the dogs. They simply live on their own in the big city, begging scraps, rummaging through garbage, befriending a kind person for a bite to eat, and seeking out a warm, dry place to sleep. The life for these dogs can not be easy; I've heard stories that laboratories and different groups capture them for experiments and product testing since nobody really cares and they are cheap and abundant. They seem to live and roam mostly alone, though they are commonly seen sleeping in pairs, but only once have I seen what could be described as a “pack.” There were 6-8 of them, trotting with tails and heads held high; one obviously being the top dog walking out in front, and another limping along, but keeping up in the middle of the pack and seemingly unperturbed, on three legs. They seem to be mostly friendly, (though as I was trying to photograph one today-the perfect picture of one by the Metro stairs- he barked at me, it was the first time I'd ever heard one bark or express any sort of displeasure) sometimes timid, sometimes bold and with little concern of the people walking by, they always seem intelligent and with good knowledge of life in the big city. They know where people eat, they know where people don't walk, they know how to disappear, and even how to cross a 6 (or more) lane boulevard. They know they can cross major intersections with the underground crosswalks or Metro stations (I'm yet to see one actually ride the trains, but I don't doubt that they do), and I've also seen one sit patiently at a crosswalk and cross only after the light turned green! It is worth noting that they never seem too thin, overly mangy, or wearing the scars of battles, though they're never overweight or well groomed either, nor do they seem sad or disgruntled at their lot; they are truly Russian, they take the cards they are dealt, trudge along and make the most of that which is life. As for their fellow Muscovites, the human ones, the dogs seem mostly ignored, just part of the Metro, sidewalk, city, and scenery, much like the babushkas selling flowers, herbs or other trinkets. They go mostly unnoticed, and I am given peculiar stares from people for looking upon the dogs with obvious sympathy or for photographing one; it is only rarely that I see a person give one attention, and even then it has always been a poor and lonely looking old man wearing his old Soviet ribbons on his well-worn jacket offering the dog a crust of stale bread, talking cheerfully to it as if a child relative: “Привет собачка! Как дела?” almost hoping that the dog will reply and speak of the days before Gorbachev when he held some important position or another in the bureaucracy of this ministry or that. In another place or time these dogs could be some child's best friend or hold an important position in this family or that, but as it is they are just quiet, well-adapted, adorable, and overlooked pieces of the massive system that is Moscow; in which people never stop moving, a square meter to oneself is cherished and a quiet corner is feverishly prayed for.

On a more personal note: today (the day I wrote this 9/16/08) I got rather discouraged with a poor performance in class after studying the chapter hard last night, the language barrier in part involving a security guard lecturing me about God knows what and a girl who just kept talking about something (maybe good, maybe bad, I don't know), and had just an overall case of feeling down. It was one of those things where I was a little tired, it was cold, I thought I was beginning to feel sick, and everything just kinda sucked; I started feeling annoyed at a lot of the Russian horseshit, my inabilities with language and partaking in the horseshit, the mullets (I want to make signs of a mullet silhouette with a big red circle and slash through it and the word “HET” in giant letters and put them around the city), and maybe even a touch of homesickness-I really wanted a cheeseburger, to communicate (though I've developed an obsession with expressing disdain in ways in which people can't understand-everyone knows the major English curses-so far 'bite it' is my fav). It was just one of those days. Then after a little nap, some homework, and some Wu-Tang I put on some underarmour, a hoodie and my big flannel and rode my skateboard to Юго-Западная, took a few pictures of dogs, and had me a Big Mac. It was the best Big Mac I've had in my entire life, it tasted good (about the same as one in KY) but meant so much more to me at that point. The McDonald's experience was hilarious in itself, the place was packed with maybe a 10 minute line even though they had about 10 registers open. When I got to the teller, a teenager named Aleksandr, I understood 'here or to go' but he didn't understand my здесь (here) and annoyingly pulled out the picture menu! Then when I said “Big Mac” (more like 'Beeg Makk') Aleksandr corrected me 'Beek Maak,' and I thought to myself, “c'mon Sasha, who's the American here? I think I know how to say Big Mac.” But either way the Big Mac and fries was glorious, and only about $3.50, much less than I was willing to pay for a respite and slice of Americana. After I returned home I realized that I felt totally different than I had just a few hours before, I was 'refilled' (do I have to pay you royalties for that Turpin?). So as I lay here on my bed typing this I feel absolutely confident and ready for whatever tomorrow will throw at me, I feel content, happy, and lucky to be where I am-I miss my dog, but I did just write a thing about dogs-but I feel really good. I think it was the ride on the skateboard that did it, and even though I neither attempted nor turned not a single trick it felt really good and very natural just rolling and pushing. Earlier today while staring out a window daydreaming during my class break I asked myself who and what I am, and I now realize that I am a skateboarder now and probably forever, whether I skate everyday, once a year, or even never see a board at all. It is a part of my being and who I am, it makes me feel whole. When I have my skateboard I feel more confident, let the worries of life melt away, and express myself in a universal language nobody needs to understand but myself, I feel like Joe Dees(z), not the scared and confused dude with the blank stare on his face as shit goes on around him. That may be pretty lame or whatever, but 'bite it,' it makes sense to me.

This has become really long, sorry. But I read that there were some pretty serious storms with some gnarly wind back home, so I really hope everybody and everything is alright-if you're dead send me an email and let me know it's all good. I also realized I haven't told about going to the soccer game (awesome), but I'll save that for later this week or so. I also just realized I forgot to transfer the dog pictures from my camera, so they'll have to be posted later.