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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.