A Crash Course in ...Moscow?
Moscow: Day 1
This is the beginning of a four part series. It’s going to be a long four part series... To make it easier on all of us I am putting it under the date which it actually happened, and writing it as though it were that day. Bear with me here.
Today began with what I can only describe as “multi-alarm madness.” After going to bed somewhere between 3 and 4am, I awoke to the two alarms I had set at 6:45.
Yes. 6:45. They sang in dissonance for about 10 seconds while I realized what the hell was actually going on. I managed to make it to the shower, and shave without cutting my face.
Given that I packed light coming here meant I had to pack heavy going to Moscow in my only suitcase, large enough for my 9 year old cousin to fit. I dragged my suitcase downstairs to meet with the 3 other people going from my building to catch the number 11 tram, to the A (green) line, to the 119 bus. We were the FIRST to arrive at the airport, even though we live the furthest away. We checked in, and once again I was complimented on my Czech pronunciation. The guy at the counter couldn’t believe I was actually from the US. At this point we fanned out to grab some food and then meet at a bar in the airport. I grabbed a piece of cake from Starbucks and walked to the bar.
At this point, we figured it was already noon somewhere in the world, and ordered a round. My poison of choice: Jack Daniel’s on the rocks.
So it came to be that at 9:30 in the morning on the 16th of October that we drank liquor at breakfast.
We then found the other 16 students and 5 adults waiting in line to check in, at the time that we were supposed to be meeting already. For once the kids who always mess it up (the Jaurisova kids) did it right. We went thru passport control without the rest of the group and seized the opportunity to go to another bar.
More Jack. At 10:30. Enough said.
We walked to the gate, and sat down in the long row of chairs against the glass wall. The gate to our backs. Security was the next step... Yes the security is all the way at the gate in Prague.
I think it’s important to pause for a moment and talk about the importance of NOT running professional film thru x-ray scanners. In the US, it’s easy enough to avoid running it thru, as the TSA speaks my language, and are always very accommodating. In the Czech Republic they aren’t the TSA, they don’t speak my language, and they aren’t particularly accommodating.
Thank god for Thea here. She was able to convince them to hand inspect the film. First bullet dodged.
We boarded the flight and took our seats. I was sitting next to Meg, from Framingham, Massachusetts. It’s so nice to have someone know where you live... They understand where you are coming from, and they don’t make fun of you when you say “wicked.”
I fell asleep for the first portion of the plane ride, but woke up in time to have lunch an hour in, consisting of chicken, bread, vegetables, and cake. The food on CSA is very, very good. I washed it down with a clear cup of white wine... Given that the Czech whites are 100 times better than the Czech reds.
We landed in Moscow and half the plane started to clap. I didn’t know that they did that. Such is life.
We deplaned and I called my folks for $5/minute from my US SIM card. Moscow is 8 hours ahead of the US, but the clock only said 6 hours ahead. For some reason the phone wouldn’t update from the Moscow towers. Strange.
We went thru passport control, I got the hairy eyeball from the person checking my passport, but I had shaved so I didn’t look like a complete terrorist.
The school had taken 50 USD from us earlier and changed that into rubles for us, but I also picked up 6000 rubles in 500 ruble notes. The exchange rate is about 25 rubles/1 USD.
We left the airport and boarded the bus that had been chartered for us to go to the hostel. The bus honestly sounded like it was going to die any second. The gears didn’t change smoothly, as if the whole clutch assembly was about to fall out in the middle of the 12 lane divided highway.
I suppose that this is a good time to talk about the Russian drivers. According to the most recent CPSB statistics (Chris Perry Safety Bureau) the worst drivers in the world live in Rhode Island. The second worst is Moscow; Third: Prague. Connecticut breaks the top ten for sure. In Moscow they will actually run you over, regardless of the crosswalk.
We arrived at the hostel after a maze of Moscow streets and avenues that are wider than a football field is long. The front door swung open to reveal a strange sight. The back door to the hostel building was partially off it’s hinges, and had a pile of rubble at the base. It looked like it had been bombed but never fully rebuilt. We walked up the oversize flights to the fourth floor where we were staying. It is basically a giant bunk house with a reception desk, two toilets, two showers, and two sinks, for 40, yes forty, guests.
We had signed up for rooms in the hostel on the bus. I was living with 9 others, but I didn’t realize until we arrived that 8 of them were girls. I love my luck sometimes.
After settling in and putting our undersized pink sheets on the beds we all went out to Cafe My-My (pronounced moo-moo) for dinner. I had some sort of meatball thing with a bread product stuffed with meat. It tasted much better than I can describe it here. For dessert I had a cheese stuffed doughy thing and a yogurt or sour cream sauce. I was later told it is called “Bcintze” whatever the heck that means.
After dinner at My-My the 20 of us walked to the Red Square. When I think about the defining moments in my life, this will certainly be one of them. I was dwarfed by the enormous architecture that surrounded the square. I couldn’t help but feel a sense that revolutions had been started here. And revolutions in fact have been started in the Red Square. I had that look of awe on my face. I had to share the moment with someone so I called my parents. I knew that they would appreciate it. I also couldn’t help but feel like Christmas in the Red Square would be unlike Christmas everywhere else.
I took time to carefully photograph the square at night. Those photos and all the pictures from the trip are being processed currently, and will be posted tomorrow night.
We left the Red Square, heading toward a bar. I opted not to be the leader, instead allowing Meg to use her exceptionally keen sense of direction to navigate the confusing Moscow streets. We arrived at the Wall Street Bar, as a group of 18. A little on the large side... Some of us had drinks, myself included, but a few others left to try and find another bar. Unsuccessful in their quest they tried to come back, but were denied entry, thus everyone left.
We broke up into smaller groups, some heading back to the hostel, others to find another bar, and some just wandered. I headed toward the hostel to try and find another place to have a drink. We were rejected at another bar (we aren’t pretty enough and don’t speak Russian), and the fourth was too busy, so we just went back to the hostel and went to bed.
It’s important to understand that in Moscow they practice “face control.” They only let the type of people into the establishments they want as clientele. I guess I don’t meet all their standards.
I went to bed, with my head spinning... Not because I had been drinking but because I was going thru intense culture shock. The language, the alphabet, the buildings, the sheer enormity of the city all combined into a unique and intense feeling.
Oddly enough, I missed home: I missed Prague.