My Little Russian

When I was a little over four months pregnant, the Mr. and I took a short trip to Moscow to visit one of my favorite people (also known as Cold Snob or Iso) and get to know two new, good people.

I was greatly impressed by the trip, both positively and negatively. It seems that even though PJ was still a little worm, hidden under too many layers of clothing, he was pretty impressed too. 'Cause he's started to "Russian dance" his way all over our apartment.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Well, then you sure haven't been watching a lot of the movie Fiddler on the Roof recently. For shame! For comparison, watch this video (skip to 4:10 for the PJ-related part).

Now, of course, this is Hollywood's version of a Russian beerhall dance, so I have no idea how authentic it is. I'm guessing not too much. And, anyway, totally topped by PJ's absolute hilarity.


xo

Not Easy But Worth It

Time to come clean: I’ve been having a difficult time writing about our time in Moscow. I’m thankful for the opportunity to have visited and to have had the chance to spend quality time with one of my favorite people – lovingly nicknamed Cold Snob – as well as meet one of the most energetic and entertaining young women I’ve had the pleasure to meet.

Indeed, the visual images and moments deeply touched me. Just to share a few of the best:

The imposing state museum:

The intricate ice sculptures built both inside and outside:

The majestic Red Square:

The newly rebuilt and exceedingly golden church in the center of Moscow:

The arresting changing of the Kremlin guards:

The still and impressing Kremlin:

But unfortunately three large themes also impressed me, and a not so positive way: media, equality of nations and races, and equality of women.

We arrived in Moscow shortly before the airport bombing that killed 36 people. With some very helpful translations, we experienced the initial Russian media coverage. The words “independent” and “free” didn’t and don’t spring to mind. Like one of the buildings dedicated to news coverage (next pic), the words “imposing,” “controlled” and “structured” do.

We might have missed experiencing Russian media completely or at least the emergency media coverage without the bombing tragedy. We might have also missed the underlying – and not quite so underlying – racism within the Russian society.

I need to add an disclaimer here: we were in Moscow for one week only and our contact to the average man was limited due in great part to language limitations. However, it did appear to me that the general populace holds the belief that the “pure” Russians deserve better pay, better treatment, and while beating the hell out of the “others” isn’t necessarily to be encouraged, it might not be all that bad either.

Which puzzles me because the best food we ate during our visit - and I continue to claim that cuisine tells us a lot about a culture, look at the American and German for proof points - were all absolutely not Russian. Georgian was the absolute best; if you haven't eaten it yet, run to the next resturant. Unfortunately we ate that meal so quickly there aren’t any pictures. So here’s a yummy and recommended Uzbekistani dish: fowl stuffed with lamb.

Lastly, while the women may exude a certain strength and remarkable beauty, it appears that they hold a second (at best) place in society. I can get really militant about this topic – so I’m cutting myself off.

With all that finally off my chest, lets return to the good stuff – did I mention Moscow is beautiful? Even at night and especially from above.

Summary: Moscow should definitely be on your list of places to visit, just don’t expect an easy experience if you think too much.



xo

For the Record: Cher Got It Wrong

Its January, we’re in Moscow visiting a friend and – surprise, surprise – its freezing cold. Free-zee-ing cold (and that is the nice version). When we leave the apartment each day, I’m wearing at least thick wool tights with feet, jeans, t-shirt, sweater, winter coat, scarf, hat, gloves and wool lined boots. Most days I have another layer on top, like a second jacket under my thick winter coat, as well as an additional pair of socks. Yet, I still find myself shivering within ten minutes of being outside. 

This picture was taken 5 steps away from the apartment. Yes, I’m already cold. Yes, my dear friend - lets just call her the Cold Snob - is laughing AT me.

But I plead basic sanity in my defense. It is cold here and I offer four pieces of evidence to prove my argument.

A - This is a city that clears its snow with a digger. A digger.

B - This is also a city that has an army of men who spend their entire day cleaning snow off of the top of buildings. 

C - This is a city covered in ice for a good part of each year. There is so much of it, that the sidewalks would be better purposed as skating rings.*  

D – This is a city that has to cordon off parts of sidewalks to protect pedestrians from getting killed by the “small” icicles hanging around in the city. 

So its free-zee-ing cold here. 

Which brings me to: For the record – Cher got it wrong. Love isn’t in his kiss – its in his willingness to swap his much warmer hat for your far too thin one just because your head is cold. That’s love.  

xo

*The women of Moscow have the incredible talent of bucking basic physics and walking on ice in stiletto boots. This was just one of many, many woman who gracefully and quickly tour around the city balancing on….what exactly are they balancing on?