26 August 2012 Alexa reported:
Last weeks in Russia. Where they add boiling water (from an electric kettle) to the teapot with already brewed tea; toilet flushes come in two strengths; washing machines are in the bathroom but the toilet likely is not; and pay toilets are rampant. Magnets are used to unlock doors to apartment buildings. Water from the tap is never drinkable. Everyone has a cell phone and won't accept money if you ask to make a call. And time is based on a 24 hour clock, just like the Army.
As a dedicated Couchsurfer, I surfed online for a couch in a town partway between St. Petersburg and Moscow, Veliky (Noble) Novgorod, a thousand year old city.
Other couches than the one you request can see your profile, and a young man calling himself Rin Wanatabe invited me to his couch.
I was hesitant because I generally filter for age and sex, and on his profile he described himself as scary, and a fun thing he had done was shoot a gun. But after some back and forth - guns are rare in Russia, and it was an air rifle - I decided to accept his offer.
My Pushkin hostess Galina dropped me at the bus station in St Pete (formerly Petrograd and Leningrad) on her way to work at Melitta, and his sister Nadya met me in Novgorod and walked me to his place. Rin is a pseudonym since he works in game development and there are already several other Sashas at the office (in fact he has a young brother also named Sasha).
We dropped my luggage at a first floor flat of a small apartment house with a cat, two other couples, and a girlfriend named Sveta (Svetlana) who speaks no English. We ended up communicating by iPad, typing questions to each other and pushing a button for instant translations. It worked well except when pale plums were translated as 'white discharge'! Sasha works til 8 at night so I wouldn't be seeing much of him.
Sasha's sister Nadya and I walked to the Kremlin along the river - every town has a Kremlin - but this was an ancient fortified center with churches, museums, bell towers and a monumental statue of Russian history (leaving out historical figures who had looted or burned Novgorod). It was once the wealthiest city. Peter the Great borrowed money to build his new European capital and helped himself to huge bells to melt into cannons. My Danish pal Ingrid had requested a post card from Russia, so I bought a batch at the tourist information center and then stood in line at the post office for stamps. On the way back I hit the supermaket for supplies. Oblong yellow melons and zucchini are popular Russian dishes. I loaded up on bread, cheese, muesli, milk, cookies, wine...and that night when Sasha returned was the first hookah party.
I don't like smoking but I love the hookah! The tobacco is treated with fruit juice, fired by a small piece of coal, cooled by water and never evokes a cough. Cushions, not chairs were used in the kitchen and around the hookah. I tried kvas, a brown liquid made from bread, and unfiltered beer. I had a pleasant evening with the twenty-somethings.
From tourist information I had learned of two attractions a bus ride away by a lake: a monastery and an open air architectural museum with ancient wooden houses and churches from all over the country. There were brides getting wedding pictures at both places. One was accompanied by singers in native garb. She tossed a fir branch into a small fire and bowed to her new husband and mother-in-law. I met a couple, Igor and Angelica, when I used my standard "Excuse me, where is....?" (Pajalusta, gdyeh...? and they offered me a ride back to St. Petersburg, but it was too early for me to leave Novgorod, there was another hookah party planned. And I hadn't visited the Kremlin museums or packed yet.
Novgorod is ICON central. Sveta had walked me to the bus station to get a ticket to Moscow, but there was no bus service there and only first class train tickets available. So I decided to take a bus back to St. Pete and there catch a bus. That plan failed when the bus proved full.
Desperate, I phoned Galina and she advised me to take the train. So I dragged my goods to a bus stop and found the station, the ticket office, and miraculously got a place on the sleeper to Moscow! And cheaper than 1st class from Novgorod. The train benches have narrow mattresses and plastic wrapped sheets, towelette and pillow case, and I had the luck of a lower berth. The lights were dimmed and I hoped I would wake up before 5:45.
I arrived much earlier than the bus would have, so I spared my next hostess, Natalia, and dozed on some steps and read Dickens' The Mystery of Edwin Drood from 6 am to 9 am.
Outside the station I was besieged by a man who wanted to help me with his little cart. Eventually I let him take my bag down the steps to the Metro and a 2 minute walk to the ticket booth and gave him a 50-ruble bill. He didn't want it but spoke no English, and eventually pulled out a calculator that asked for 500! (33 to the dollar) I had to make a scene, shouting, "Stop (I see the signs, CTOП) Bye bye!" and he gave up and disappeared. The Metro was swarming with swarthy men from Eastern Russia, so I realized how European St. Petersburg had been.
The Metro has a circle line with other lines radiating out in all directions and the inevitable endless escalators that try me so. Some stations are quite beautiful with mosaics, scenes from Ukraine, and young policemen with ridiculously large hats prowling back and forth.
I finally emerged at Natalia's stop and soon she appeared, tall and well groomed with a long skirt, a biochemist. Divorced, with a cat and two grown children, George (Uri) an IT expert, and Yulia. Uri was just back from a long cycling trip. Yulia teaches French. I had told Natalia about WWOOF, the world wide organic organization of farmers, and she had recently volunteered in Estonia, and was heading back soon.
I had my own room in a spacious three-room apartment. Nata understood the importance of doing laundry, too.
After a rest, we took the Metro to a big city park where a CouchSurfing family gathering was happening. I bought a Moscow pin for my hat, some honey and honey drink (illegal but potent) at a honey festival there, and eventually we spotted the CouchSurfing flag and dozens of people sharing food and talk and a soccer game, foreigners v. Russians. Russians wore one color nametag, visitors another. The park has big churches, a log cabin of Peter the Great's, old trees, flowers, and a view of the river. Marius, the CS organizer, invited me to surf his couch in Warsaw when I visit Poland.
Moscow was nothing like I expected!
Natalia had tickets to a concert at the Conservatory near Red Square, in Rachmaninoff Hall. It was an endless dash up and down streets to get there. We were too late for the string quartet but enjoyed the terrific soprano, and there would be a free student recital the next night.
Nata assisted me in buying tickets to my next destinations: Kazan, then Kazan back to Moscow, and on to Minsk before the 30 day visa expires. She also helped me send a letter to museums and historical societies in Kazan. An ancestor we never knew about died there in 1917 helping set up and supply hospitals. Nata urged me to stress Kazan, (Tartarstan) not Russia in the emails.
We parted in the city, me to walk around Gum department store and Red Square, Nata, to meet a man with a refrigerator part for her mother. I always thought Red Square would be a huge flat place with Soviet era statues. Instead there were bleachers for an upcoming event, churches and ornate buildings of varying architecture.
I was accosted by Putin, who asked me to have a seat to get my picture taken with him for a thousand roubles. Okay, 500. 300. I said, "Serbia, no!" and snapped a candid photo of him. I don't think it was really Putin! Off I dashed back to the concert hall, getting slightly lost but in time, unlike Natalia, whose seat I saved for half an hour. She ended up sitting in a window so she could see the musicians' faces. From piano to cello to string bass to a child on a violin, to a powerful acapella chior followed by an annoying soubrette, it was most magnificent in that fine, packed hall. Afterwards we explored the old neighborhood and found statues of Khachaturian, and Rostropovich, who played the cello outside as the Berlin wall was coming down. It was a magical evening, followed by meeting her son in the Metro, with a late night visit to a spring in a forest on the edge of the city.
Most families have a filtered pitcher and boil their water, but Nata the biochemist doesn't trust them.
My last day we went cycling in a nearby park, to a supermarket, and she fixed my Matrushka earrings and cat bracelet and gave me a beautiful necklace she designed. I headed for the history museum in the Kremlin while she took my suitcase on her appointments. We met in the Metro and she saw me to my station, and I boarded another sleeper to Kazan!
This sleeper was of older vintage, and headed to Siberia! A soldier gallantly took my upper bunk and left me the lower. The babushka across from me shared her bread and cheese. She had enough food for days, and I guess Siberia was a few days away. She got a cup and hot water and shared her all-important tea despite the language barrier it was a pleasant and nourishing encounter.
The next morning Gulnara and her son Mark were there at the station, all smiles, despite knowing the terrible traffic jam that lay ahead. This is a two-car family in a bustling city, not the one-horse town I expected. Everything is under construction in preparation for next year's college olympics. Gulnara was chic in her work attire; her husband Max the attorney would appear the next day. Mark is starting university soon and Ilya grade school. Thomas the nearly hairless gray Egyptian hat, holds down the fort.
Last weeks in Russia. Where they add boiling water (from an electric kettle) to the teapot with already brewed tea; toilet flushes come in two strengths; washing machines are in the bathroom but the toilet likely is not; and pay toilets are rampant. Magnets are used to unlock doors to apartment buildings. Water from the tap is never drinkable. Everyone has a cell phone and won't accept money if you ask to make a call. And time is based on a 24 hour clock, just like the Army.
As a dedicated Couchsurfer, I surfed online for a couch in a town partway between St. Petersburg and Moscow, Veliky (Noble) Novgorod, a thousand year old city.
Other couches than the one you request can see your profile, and a young man calling himself Rin Wanatabe invited me to his couch.
I was hesitant because I generally filter for age and sex, and on his profile he described himself as scary, and a fun thing he had done was shoot a gun. But after some back and forth - guns are rare in Russia, and it was an air rifle - I decided to accept his offer.
My Pushkin hostess Galina dropped me at the bus station in St Pete (formerly Petrograd and Leningrad) on her way to work at Melitta, and his sister Nadya met me in Novgorod and walked me to his place. Rin is a pseudonym since he works in game development and there are already several other Sashas at the office (in fact he has a young brother also named Sasha).
We dropped my luggage at a first floor flat of a small apartment house with a cat, two other couples, and a girlfriend named Sveta (Svetlana) who speaks no English. We ended up communicating by iPad, typing questions to each other and pushing a button for instant translations. It worked well except when pale plums were translated as 'white discharge'! Sasha works til 8 at night so I wouldn't be seeing much of him.
Sasha's sister Nadya and I walked to the Kremlin along the river - every town has a Kremlin - but this was an ancient fortified center with churches, museums, bell towers and a monumental statue of Russian history (leaving out historical figures who had looted or burned Novgorod). It was once the wealthiest city. Peter the Great borrowed money to build his new European capital and helped himself to huge bells to melt into cannons. My Danish pal Ingrid had requested a post card from Russia, so I bought a batch at the tourist information center and then stood in line at the post office for stamps. On the way back I hit the supermaket for supplies. Oblong yellow melons and zucchini are popular Russian dishes. I loaded up on bread, cheese, muesli, milk, cookies, wine...and that night when Sasha returned was the first hookah party.
I don't like smoking but I love the hookah! The tobacco is treated with fruit juice, fired by a small piece of coal, cooled by water and never evokes a cough. Cushions, not chairs were used in the kitchen and around the hookah. I tried kvas, a brown liquid made from bread, and unfiltered beer. I had a pleasant evening with the twenty-somethings.
From tourist information I had learned of two attractions a bus ride away by a lake: a monastery and an open air architectural museum with ancient wooden houses and churches from all over the country. There were brides getting wedding pictures at both places. One was accompanied by singers in native garb. She tossed a fir branch into a small fire and bowed to her new husband and mother-in-law. I met a couple, Igor and Angelica, when I used my standard "Excuse me, where is....?" (Pajalusta, gdyeh...? and they offered me a ride back to St. Petersburg, but it was too early for me to leave Novgorod, there was another hookah party planned. And I hadn't visited the Kremlin museums or packed yet.
Novgorod is ICON central. Sveta had walked me to the bus station to get a ticket to Moscow, but there was no bus service there and only first class train tickets available. So I decided to take a bus back to St. Pete and there catch a bus. That plan failed when the bus proved full.
Desperate, I phoned Galina and she advised me to take the train. So I dragged my goods to a bus stop and found the station, the ticket office, and miraculously got a place on the sleeper to Moscow! And cheaper than 1st class from Novgorod. The train benches have narrow mattresses and plastic wrapped sheets, towelette and pillow case, and I had the luck of a lower berth. The lights were dimmed and I hoped I would wake up before 5:45.
I arrived much earlier than the bus would have, so I spared my next hostess, Natalia, and dozed on some steps and read Dickens' The Mystery of Edwin Drood from 6 am to 9 am.
Outside the station I was besieged by a man who wanted to help me with his little cart. Eventually I let him take my bag down the steps to the Metro and a 2 minute walk to the ticket booth and gave him a 50-ruble bill. He didn't want it but spoke no English, and eventually pulled out a calculator that asked for 500! (33 to the dollar) I had to make a scene, shouting, "Stop (I see the signs, CTOП) Bye bye!" and he gave up and disappeared. The Metro was swarming with swarthy men from Eastern Russia, so I realized how European St. Petersburg had been.
The Metro has a circle line with other lines radiating out in all directions and the inevitable endless escalators that try me so. Some stations are quite beautiful with mosaics, scenes from Ukraine, and young policemen with ridiculously large hats prowling back and forth.
I finally emerged at Natalia's stop and soon she appeared, tall and well groomed with a long skirt, a biochemist. Divorced, with a cat and two grown children, George (Uri) an IT expert, and Yulia. Uri was just back from a long cycling trip. Yulia teaches French. I had told Natalia about WWOOF, the world wide organic organization of farmers, and she had recently volunteered in Estonia, and was heading back soon.
I had my own room in a spacious three-room apartment. Nata understood the importance of doing laundry, too.
After a rest, we took the Metro to a big city park where a CouchSurfing family gathering was happening. I bought a Moscow pin for my hat, some honey and honey drink (illegal but potent) at a honey festival there, and eventually we spotted the CouchSurfing flag and dozens of people sharing food and talk and a soccer game, foreigners v. Russians. Russians wore one color nametag, visitors another. The park has big churches, a log cabin of Peter the Great's, old trees, flowers, and a view of the river. Marius, the CS organizer, invited me to surf his couch in Warsaw when I visit Poland.
Moscow was nothing like I expected!
Natalia had tickets to a concert at the Conservatory near Red Square, in Rachmaninoff Hall. It was an endless dash up and down streets to get there. We were too late for the string quartet but enjoyed the terrific soprano, and there would be a free student recital the next night.
Nata assisted me in buying tickets to my next destinations: Kazan, then Kazan back to Moscow, and on to Minsk before the 30 day visa expires. She also helped me send a letter to museums and historical societies in Kazan. An ancestor we never knew about died there in 1917 helping set up and supply hospitals. Nata urged me to stress Kazan, (Tartarstan) not Russia in the emails.
We parted in the city, me to walk around Gum department store and Red Square, Nata, to meet a man with a refrigerator part for her mother. I always thought Red Square would be a huge flat place with Soviet era statues. Instead there were bleachers for an upcoming event, churches and ornate buildings of varying architecture.
I was accosted by Putin, who asked me to have a seat to get my picture taken with him for a thousand roubles. Okay, 500. 300. I said, "Serbia, no!" and snapped a candid photo of him. I don't think it was really Putin! Off I dashed back to the concert hall, getting slightly lost but in time, unlike Natalia, whose seat I saved for half an hour. She ended up sitting in a window so she could see the musicians' faces. From piano to cello to string bass to a child on a violin, to a powerful acapella chior followed by an annoying soubrette, it was most magnificent in that fine, packed hall. Afterwards we explored the old neighborhood and found statues of Khachaturian, and Rostropovich, who played the cello outside as the Berlin wall was coming down. It was a magical evening, followed by meeting her son in the Metro, with a late night visit to a spring in a forest on the edge of the city.
Most families have a filtered pitcher and boil their water, but Nata the biochemist doesn't trust them.
My last day we went cycling in a nearby park, to a supermarket, and she fixed my Matrushka earrings and cat bracelet and gave me a beautiful necklace she designed. I headed for the history museum in the Kremlin while she took my suitcase on her appointments. We met in the Metro and she saw me to my station, and I boarded another sleeper to Kazan!
This sleeper was of older vintage, and headed to Siberia! A soldier gallantly took my upper bunk and left me the lower. The babushka across from me shared her bread and cheese. She had enough food for days, and I guess Siberia was a few days away. She got a cup and hot water and shared her all-important tea despite the language barrier it was a pleasant and nourishing encounter.
The next morning Gulnara and her son Mark were there at the station, all smiles, despite knowing the terrible traffic jam that lay ahead. This is a two-car family in a bustling city, not the one-horse town I expected. Everything is under construction in preparation for next year's college olympics. Gulnara was chic in her work attire; her husband Max the attorney would appear the next day. Mark is starting university soon and Ilya grade school. Thomas the nearly hairless gray Egyptian hat, holds down the fort.
