From Our Moscow Bureau

This past year my Russian language instructor has taught me lots of useless Russian words that I am quite confident that I will never use again in this lifetime. It started with simple words like “еж” which means hedgehog. I’m not saying that hedgehogs aren’t important, cute, delicious, or whatever. I just never have figured out why she was so hell-bent on teaching me how to say hedgehog and not how to count to 10 or ask where the toilet is. Regardless, I’ve been here for going on two years and I still hold my fingers up like a three year old when I need to use a number and I still do the “pee-pee” dance and shrug my shoulders every time I have to ask someone where the toilet is (ok, maybe the latter is an exaggeration).

So for the past couple of months I’ve really hunkered down and started to study Russian with vigor. In doing so I have learned several phrases that Russians use that make no sense but I love to use them as it always results in a smile from the person I’m talking too. Most of the time I don’t think it’s the phrase so much as my attitude and mispronunciation that gets them to grinning. One phrase that is common to tell someone when you think they are telling you a fib is вешать лапшу на уши which means hang the noodles from your ears. I can’t even begin to figure out why they say this as it makes no sense whatsoever. But if someone is telling you a lie and you mutter these words they are sure to start laughing with you. It reminds me of us telling someone they are pulling our leg. I’m sure the Russians would laugh if they ever heard us asking each other if we were pulling each other’s legs.

This past weekend I learned that when someone doesn’t have an ear for music, Russian’s say медведь наступил на ухо which means a bear stepped on your ear. Me being the smooth operator that I am I decided on Saturday night that I would try this phrase out on a girl in hopes that it would make her smile, laugh, and generally melt with my charming advance. After saying this phrase she looked at me in disgust and horror before trying to slap me. All of our friends burst out laughing. I had, as often is the case, said the wrong words and asked her if a bear had stepped on her FACE? It’s no wonder she was upset.

It’s also no wonder why I’m still single…

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

Last week I attended the Moscow International Oil and Gas Exhibition (for those of us in the Oil business this is Russia's answer to Houston's Offshore Technology Conference). I've been to a lot of oil field trade shows and conventions and I have never seen anything like this. It might not have measured up to the size of Houston’s OTC, but what it lacked in size it made up for in marketing ingenuity.


Each booth is sponsored by a company, usually oil service related, (i.e. Baker Hughes, Weatherford, Schlumberger) that is marketing its products and or services. And at each booth there are ridiculously hot girls that have been hired to be just that...ridiculously hot. In fact, it's pretty common knowledge that the companies that rent these booths contact modeling agencies to pick out their models that will be standing around lookin' pretty all week.


But i guess in Russia where most of the women are ridiculously hot no matter where you are, marketers are forced to come up with a better strategy. This year the clever Russian marketeers had topless girls standing around near the booths passing out flyers. TOPLESS! Well, I guess I am exaggerating a bit. They were tasteful enough to use an airbrush to paint the company logo over the girl's...girlies for lack of a better word.


Anyway, I was going to take a picture to send back to the planners of next year's OTC in Houston but my boss saw me reaching for my camera and told me that he thought it might be tasteless for me to take the picture. After all, I'm sure the girls wouldn't want to bring any unwanted attention to themselves.


Only in Russia…


Oh, and I told him later that day that I wasn't reachin' for my camera. I was hoping that I might have some paint thinner stashed away in my pocket.


~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

I thought you might enjoy seeing what a typical night out to dinner consists of here in Russia. To be honest, I don't even know what I order (or eat) half of the time. There is no rhyme or reason to my method. I just peruse thru the menu like I know what I'm reading and then point at something that looks appetizing. Often times the waitress will ask me something in Russian during my feeble attempt to place my order and I will respond "Koneshna" which means "of course!" Even though I have no idea what she has asked me.

I've given up on trying to understand anything that is going on in the kitchen or anywhere else in the restaurant. I kid you not; often times the server will bring out the appetizer after everyone has finished their meal. This has happened to me on three different occasions. Like all restaurants in Europe, the service here is HORRIBLE. The thing that I don't understand is why the waiter/waitress tends to bring out everyone's meal one at a time (most of the time the meals come out 15-20 minutes apart). This means that if you are at a table with 3 other people and you are the last to get your meal, you will have probably eaten your napkin and maybe the ashtray (yes they still smoke everywhere) before your meal arrives. Then when your meal finally arrives, the others, having finished their meals while you stared at them with your tail wagging like a starving dog, are looking at their watches ready to go. So you end up scarfing down your food like you haven't eaten in weeks. My guess is that the kitchen only prepares one meal at a time. And it doesn't matter what I order, I'm always the last to get served. However, while the service may suck,the food is delicious (possibly because after waiting an hour the waiter could bring me just about anything on a plate and I would eat it).

Here is what probably happens when the waiter shows up to take my order:

Me (stupid American pointing at something on the menu and then brutally trying to pronounce it): "May I have the pig entrails with a side of cole slaw?"

Waiter: "Would you like your meal served to you after everyone else at the table has eaten and is ready to leave?"

Me: "Of course!"

Waiter (looking at me as though I recently ran off with his wife and stole his entire collection of Waylon Jennings albums): "Very well, I will make sure that your meal is delivered to you sometime between now and the second coming of Christ. In the meantime, please enjoy some second hand smoke."

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

"S Novym Godom!" is Russian for Happy New Year. It's pronounced "Snowman's Scrotum" (at least that is what I thought people were saying when they greeted me on January 1st 2009).
New Years Eve festivities were a bit different for me this year. I had been invited to a costume party not far from my house and I thought it would be a great time to show off my Santa Claus costume that my British friends had bought me as a Christmas present. When I showed up to the party the joke was on me. I was one of three people who came dressed up. What made it worse was that there were several young children at the party who were still believers. I say "were" believers because by the time their parents had shuttled them home they had given up on believing Santa was real (or at least they had given up on the idea that Santa was the bearer of gifts).

First off, let me tell you the background on the Russian Santa Claus. They call him "Ded Moroz" which means Father Frost. He usually shows up at New Years parties to pass out presents to all of the children. He is typically accompanied by a snow maiden named Snegurochka (his hot granddaughter). Why New Years? Remember that under communist rule, Christmas wasn't really celebrated as it was/is a religious holiday. To be honest, it's still not celebrated today in Russia. December 25th is just another day. Most, if not all, families choose instead to celebrate New Years by having a family dinner and giving gifts to one another.

So when I showed up to the party dressed as Santa you can imagine the reaction. The kids were excited at first but when they realized that I was just a fake they became pretty aggravated with me, their parents, and the whole lie that they had grown up believing. Leave it to me to ruin Christmas…or New Years.

Once the children left the party the older folks decided to have a contest to find me a Snegurochka (Snow Maiden). I won't go into details but let's just say that it involved me being blind folded and the contestants trying to win my approval by any means necessary. Another reason why some of the children at the party will never be able to look at Santa the same way…

Around 2am I decided to head back to the North Pole (aka my flat). Just like any other night I set out on foot walking down a major street towards my apartment. Except this night I was dressed as Ded Moroz. Which is the equivalent of being the king of mardi gras in New Orleans. People were driving down the street honking at me and hanging their heads out their windows chanting my name. Teenagers were stopping me on the street to take pictures with me. I think they were all a bit confused as I waved to everyone I met and wished them all a big heartfelt "Snowman's Scrotum!"

-Ded Moroz aka The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

A few weeks ago I was invited to a Chili Cook-off here in Moscow. What a treat! I immediately starting having visions of a huge parking lot full of BBQ pits, pick-up trucks, and girls with jeans so tight you could count the change in their pockets. While I knew that this was only a vision and probably not going to be the reality of the Moscow Chili Cook-off, deep down I still was hoping that I would be able to at least taste something that had some semblance of Texas Chili.

The cook-off was held at the Canadian Embassy. The friends that I was meeting up with to go to the Embassy with were running a bit late so they were surprised when I made them move at a slow jog to the Embassy. My fear was that we would get there too late and be left with the pots of chili that no one wanted.

The Canadian Embassy is pretty sweet. You have to give them your passport to get inside, and I would have given up my citizenship too had I known that they had a canteen underneath the embassy that served cheap Dr. Peppers (along with a host of other libations)!

As feared, we had arrived too late. The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Place Chili Pots had been wiped clean. With my chin down I started back to the bar for another Dr. Pepper when a cute girl holding a half full pot of chili motioned to me with an empty bowl in her hand. My initial thought was "no matter how bad the chili taste at least I'll get to flirt with this girl for a bit". I started making conversation with her while she poured me the biggest bowl of chili I'd ever seen. I put a spoonful of her chili in my mouth while talking to her. It had so much cayenne pepper that it made me cough. When I coughed, the mouthful of chili that I had went up my nose. The cayenne pepper burnt so bad my eyes started to water as my nose started running (with bits of chili…gross!). Needless to say she didn't want to talk to me much after that.

In all honesty there were one or two contestants that made some pretty good chili. While they might not have won first place, they did manage to keep me from shooting it out of my nose.

The judges announced at the end of the night that next month's competition will be a Curry Cook-off. I may have to eat before I get there…

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

Yesterday I didn't know where Riga was! However, with a 7-hour layover there while traveling between Tel Aviv and Moscow I can't be blamed for wanting to know more about a city than what is offered in its airport. I grabbed some of the local currency, hailed a taxi, and headed into the heart of Riga. Riga is the capital Latvia. It has a population of around one million and I'd say a fair number were milling about when I got out of my taxi.

The driver dropped me off in a medieval looking city center complete with cobblestone streets, old churches, and tons of bars. No sooner had I gotten out of the car than some kid ran up and gave me a miniature Latvian flag (he was running around with a hand full of them, giving them to everyone on the street). I noticed a stage set up in the distance next to a huge monument where tons of people were watching two soldiers who were doing some sort of ceremonious march. When the soldiers were done the people came and laid flowers at the monument where the soldiers stood like wooden indians.

The crowd started to disperse when I heard a man and woman whispering in English. I asked them what was going on and they told me that Latvia was celebrating 90 years of independence. Latvia's Independence Day! (I guess they include the years that they were part of the USSR in their independence?)

The nice couple said that I was just in time for the parade. But first, they led me to a Latvian restaurant where I ate cabbage rolls stuffed with pork. After being in countries for the past month that didn't appreciate the deliciousness of the pig, the pork rich Latvian cuisine was a welcomed delight.

Then I headed down to the Daugava River to watch the shortest parade I'd ever seen. The whole thing lasted fifteen minutes and ten of those minutes were of the United Nations Forces alone.

Despite the short parade, the Rigans (if that's what they call themselves) were having a big time. I too had a blast! A fifteen-minute parade in freezing weather beats seven hours in an airport any day.

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

In our efforts to always bring you the latest most compelling information, our Moscow correspondent brings you this update from the Middle East.

**********
Greetings from a land that prospered 4,000 centuries ago. I have only been in Egypt a few days now and I have learned so much. First of all, I am quite certain that these people did not build these pyramids. If they had, I am sure that they would collect all of the trash that is laying in the streets and alleys of Cairo and construct another. Cairo is one of the dirtiest and craziest cities I've ever visited. There are over 20 million people living in Cairo. I think the night that I was there they all decided to get in their cars and drive frantically thru town honking, swerving, and screaming obscenities in arabic. The good part is that they are very friendly, when not driving, and are willing to help you with anything (for a small price, my friend). The pyramids were amazing! Much larger than I could have ever imagined. Another thing that I found interesting is that there are over 90 of them in Egypt! All my life I thought there were only three or four. Again, I am certain that they could break the 100 mark if they'd just start picking up the trash in town and piling it up in a geometric-like fashion.

I went to the valley of the kings today. To be honest it was kind of morbid. No one to my knowledge really enjoys going to a cemetery to see people they do not know. Why we enjoy going inside the tomb at a cemetery is beyond me as well. They have two separate cemeteries. The valley of the kings (for the boys). And the valley of the queens (for the girls). I kid you not, the tombs of the queens were always much better decorated and even smelt better (I know you think i'm exaggerating but I am not). Some things don't change. Even in the afterlife.

My guide was a devout muslim (like most of the people here). He was very nice and he was very respectful of my beliefs. He also informed me of several lies that we in the West have been told. First of all, he does not understand why the Jews do not want to come and visit Egypt (he calls it the Paris of the Middle East). I told him that it probably had something to do with being in bondage here and having to escape with the help of "the only True God". He then told me that the Jews a) were never slaves here and b) did not construct the pyramids. He then told me that during 911 that it is a fact that all of the Jewish workers that lived in the towers stayed home that day (implying that they knew of the attack). I told him that it just proves that God is looking out for them as He must have told them to stay home! Again, I learn something new everyday.

On a much lighter note, when eating at the touristy places I have found delight in listening to the rag tag band of musicians that hang out near the entrance. They only play music when the tourists walk by. The music last for about six or seven notes (depending on how long the tourists take to walk by and if they give them some money). Every new group of tourists get a new song. Because the songs are so short, we hang out near the entrance at night and play "Name that Tune". It's amazing the things you'll do when you don't have a television to occupy your time.

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

Today I want to address a very troubling problem for me that has engrossed the male population here in Moscow. No, I'm not talking about alcoholism. Nor am I talking about the overwhelming popularity of the mullet. No. Today I want to address a very sad display of masculinity that I cannot leave my house without seeing. This is something that causes me to bow my head in shame and utter disbelief. I'm referring, of course, to "the man bag".
Usually the man has the purse slung over his shoulder and is strutting down the street. If you're in a better part of town you might get to see the men who have accessorized. They'll most always have the matching shoes, but sometimes they will even have a matching belt. I won't even get started on how gay the shoes look, but they accentuate the problem when they sling that purse over their shoulder.

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I'm forced to carry more than I can fit in my pockets (a laptop, a couple of books, ipod, sunglasses, vanity mirror). In that case I'll be sporting a backpack. And the odds of that backpack matching my shoes or belt are slim and none.

The part I don't get is this. The bags are usually the size of a small to medium size binocular case. This means that the guy is either carrying a pair of sunglasses and a wallet in his purse, or he's got a small handgun that won't fit in his pocket. Regardless, my way of thinking is that if it won't fit in my pocket, then it's going in my backpack.

My favorite thing to see is a man and his girl walking side by side, purses swinging. I can't help but stare in disbelief. I would love to make a snide comment to every man that I see sporting his Prada or Gucci European Carry-all (thank you Jerry Seinfeld), but my fear is that one of three things might happen. 1. He'll start slinging his purse at me. Although most of the purses aren't big enough to do much damage. 2. He'll pull a hand gun out of his Louis Vuitton hand purse and bust a cap in me. Or 3. His girlfriend will chase me down and beat me up. Number 3 is likely the case, so I usually just look at him, shake my head, and if I'm smooth enough, I'll get my camera out and snap a couple of photos while he's not looking.

From Our Moscow Bureau

It's been a while since I've written of any strange or interesting adventures that I've experienced while in Russia. To be honest, I think that I've become accustomed to the weirdness. I realize that I am a bit weird myself so a lot of times I let strange or odd situations pass by without noticing, or caring for that matter. A few interesting things that I have noticed recently…

1. I have found that nobody pays any attention to signs. Whether they are driving down the street or walking through the metro, people go wherever they want to go. More than once I have had to hug the sides of buildings as cars have pulled up onto the sidewalks of Moscow and treated those sidewalks as their own personal HOV lane. In many cases the cars just park on the sidewalks which force the pedestrians to have to walk on the street. I can tell you that walking on a busy street here is not for the faint of heart. It's like playing a Russian version of Frogger, only with your life!

In the metro, my biggest pet peeve is people walking out the entrance door and vice versa. It drives me crazy when I enter a busy subway station only to meet some old lady (babushka) going the wrong direction, pushing her way against the tide of people, to the wrong door. Or better yet, when we both arrive at the door at the same time and she then proceeds in slamming the door open in my face narrowly missing hitting me in the nose. Good times! I love you babushka, I truly do…

2. Dr. Pepper can now be bought on the open market here! In the past I had to sneak them into the country in my suitcase like some drug mule making his way from Colombia. The other option was to sweet talk someone into bringing me a case from the US Military Commissary. However, now that it can be found down the street from my flat, my dentist can stop worrying about his children's college fund. I've drank enough DP this month to keep him busy for years, or at least until my teeth fall out.

The downside is that they are $4 per can. With that sort of cost you would think it would slow me down…but it hasn't.

3. Pharmacies here are just like in Mexico. I wanted to stock up on a few antibiotics for an upcoming vacation that I am planning, but I didn't want to have to set up a doctor's appointment (unless the Dr's last name is Pepper) to get the prescription. So, I went to the European Medical Center and wrote on a Post-It Note the drug that I was looking for. The lady behind the counter read the prescription aloud and then filled it with no questions. It was at that point that my conscience started to work on me as I pondered the correct spelling of Marijuana and Codeine. I decided to go for Morphine instead…just kidding.

On a sad note, the days are getting shorter. The temperature is starting to drop to uncomfortable levels. And the girls are starting to wear long coats again. I can't tell you how sad all of this makes me, especially the last part. I'm not looking forward to the snow, the sleet, and the loss of feeling in my nose, toes, and fingers on my commute to work… This is Russia.



~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

It's been quite a while since I last sent an email out. But as the weather has been getting nicer, I haven't had time to write as I've been out and about. I'm still going out and doing the touristy things, but I'm also getting into a groove/rut which is making me a bit lazy. You know the drill wake up, go to work, come home, watch old "Bay Watch" re-runs, go to bed.

I think the coolest thing I've done in the past month was go to visit the Cold War Museum. Picture this… The year is 1945. The USA has just bombed Hiroshima. Stalin, out of fear that the USA might one day bomb Moscow, builds a huge underground bunker 18 stories below street level. No one knows that it exists except the small group of men and women that work there. They have been sworn to secrecy (and probably threatened with their life). The underground bunker is a fully functional Nuclear Shelter that was meant to protect a small group of survivors (mostly Government officials) for months after a Nuclear War. In the early 1990's after the collapse of the USSR, the government came in and dismantled most of the valuable items out of the bunker (computers, electronics, etc...). The bunker was left vacant until last year when an independent company came in and bought the bunker and refurbished it for tours. While not all of the bunker is accessible and a lot of it is still being refurbished, you still get a pretty creepy feeling of what life would be like living 18 stories underground.

The best part of the tour was the Russian propaganda films that they show you. Lots of valuable information is given in the film that I never knew about (or will ever believe). For instance… Did you know that the USA bombed Japan for no reason!? According to the film, Japan had done nothing to provoke a nuclear attack. Also, did you know that Churchill single handedly started the Cold War? I don't remember seeing him at any ribbon cutting, but according to the film he was the one that started it all. The film was loaded with crazy information (it's no wonder the Russians hated us for so long). As I am prone to embellish any good story, I invite you to check out the website http://www.zkp42.ru/index_eng.html

It's summer time and that means three things.

Longer days. I've had to put aluminum foil up on my bedroom windows so I can sleep. The sun goes down around midnight and comes back up again around 4:30am.

Warmer days. Everyone is hanging up their winter gear. The girls here wear "Business Shorts" to the office. I'm not sure if it means that they are for "Business", or if they are wearing them to show off their "Business". Either way, I'm not complaining!

Block-Buster Summer Movies! While I can go to my local flea market and get just about any pirated movie I want, some movies are meant to be seen on the big screen. This summer the movie that I was dying to see was the new "Indiana Jones". I had to wait a few weeks, but I finally found a movie theater on the other side of town that was showing the film in English. I gathered up a few of my closest English speaking friends and we headed to the theater. When we arrived we were informed that the film was dubbed over in Russian, but we could listen to the film in English on headphones for an additional $5. Most of us paid the money and prepared to be awed by Harrison Ford. Instead we were let down. Not by the movie, but by the worst voice over's I've ever heard in my life. Some guy read the film to us in English via our ear phones. His English was horrible! He also read all the parts (even the girl parts). You could hear the pages turning (which I thought was pretty funny). But the most aggravating thing was when there was a heated dialogue among several actors, our translator would lock up and only say the last sentence of a conversation.

Needless to say, I hope that Harrison Ford makes a 5th installment so that I can watch it in English back in the States. What would they call it?… "Indiana Jones and the Crusty Skull"

~The Moscow Correspondent

From Our Moscow Bureau

After a short trip back to States, I arrived back to mother Russia amid excitement and confusion. The excitement was about the big Victory Day Parade on May 9th. Every year Russia celebrates the end of WWII. To be truthful, they celebrate beating the Germans. In fact, the general consensus here is that they pretty much did it on their own. Yes, the Americans and the Brits did that thing on that beach in France. But to them, Normandy didn't hold a candle to the 20 million people that they lost during the war. So every year they celebrate beating the Germans by having a parade. However, when the Soviet Union collapsed 17 years ago, the parade turned into more of a small town affair. This year was to be different… This year they were going to show off their military muscle by parading a bunch of military hardware (tanks, missile launchers, jets, etc). I guess the new president (with Putin as the puppet master) wanted the world to know that Russia still has a military.



The confusion. NOT ONE PERSON knew where the parade was going to be. Of course we knew that it would start (or end) at Red Square. But nobody knew what street it would go down. It wasn't in any of the papers (or on-line). I'd never seen so much hullabaloo about a parade, and not one person could tell you where it would be. I had seen on the news that it would start at 10am. But that was all I knew.







With that little bit of knowledge, I got up Friday morning (we had the day off for the mystery parade) and walked down to the end of my block to find that the streets had been barricaded off. This was great to see as it meant that they'd be coming down my street! As luck would have it, they did come rumbling down my street. While the tanks and missile launchers were cruising by, we had helicopters, jets, and huge bombers flying overhead. I have to admit that it was pretty cool to see all that hardware close up.


All that said, I think I should write a letter of criticism and send it to the Kremlin. If you're going to have a parade of that size and grandeur you should at least let people know what street it's going to be on! For that matter, you should have a big name celebrity as the Grand Marshal (I'm thinkin' Britney Spears, Drew Carey, or even Hall & Oates). And can't they have the soldiers throwin' beads, commemorative plastic cups, or even 'moon pies'? Makes me long for New Orleans…


~The Moscow Correspondent

From our Moscow Bureau

Spring has arrived! I can hardly believe it. We've had 5 solid days of sunshine. I actually went out for a walk a day or two ago with nothing but a t-shirt on (get your mind out of the gutter). My point is that winter is on its way out (and not a moment too soon). With the warmer weather come longer days and shorter nights. I'm told that it will be daylight until almost midnight during the summer. Looks like I'll have to invest in aluminum foil for my bedroom windows.



As I've mentioned previously, I finally found an apartment. This weekend my agent (who is the best real estate agent I've ever used) took me to Ikea to buy furniture for my apartment. When I moved to Moscow, all I brought was nine bags so you can imagine all the stuff that we had to buy to furnish the apartment. The only reason I think she had me come to Ikea with her was to a) push the baskets and b) pay the bill. Would you believe that before we were finished I had baskets full of everything from spatulas to sofas? When we got to the counter to pay I had about 25 yards worth of baskets to push and several poor saps standing in line behind me watching as I counted out 150,000 rubles ($6,000) in $20 dollar increments (everyone uses cash in Russia). I'm not sure I could have done any of the shopping that day without my agent. She was able to negotiate the store (it's freakin' huge), negotiate with the sales people, and get the shipping and assembly lined up as well (all of which had to be done in Russian). Then she took me to an electronics store to buy a microwave and tv. Eight hours later I had all the makings of a furnished apartment…on paper…

The next day the problems began. The delivery guys showed up 10 hours late and then refused to deliver. Once we did convince them to deliver they didn't deliver all of the items. Half of the items they did deliver they damaged either in transit, or the way up the stairs. The assembly guys showed up the day after the delivery guys and managed to damage the other half of the items…(it was like a tag team event). The best part is that they do not remove the boxes from your apartment (they say for warranty reasons). So now, while I may not have a bed, I can always construct one out of the boxes and duct tape (literally 50+) that they've left behind...if I could only find duct tape.

Friday night I ventured out with some friends of mine to go check out a movie at a large cinema. The cinema only has one English speaking screen that is located about 1-1/2 blocks from the concession stand inside the theater. So after you've bought your ticket and purchased your popcorn and soda, you have to walk outside and down the street to your movie. No big deal right… That is until you walk outside and are swarmed by children wanting you to give them your soda, your popcorn and in some cases your wallet. The kids ages range from 5 years to 12 years I'm guessing. The two little devils that attacked me were around 6yrs (girl) and 10 yrs (boy). Had they been homeless or destitute one might feel as though sharing your drink, popcorn or even money would be the right thing to do. But these little animals were dressed nice. And they had a system of attack. They actually cornered the girl I was with and because both her hands had drinks in them, she couldn't do anything. They had her purse unzipped before I could get over to her to save the sodas! Crazy! After the show we stood near the entrance and watched the little monsters as they attacked wave after wave of unsuspecting movie goers. To be young and gypsy…



~The Moscow Correspondent

From our Moscow Bureau

Last Sunday I woke up bright and early and headed to the church that I've been visiting (hoping that they might have installed special chairs that can support the load of a man that eats a lot of pancakes).


On the way, I noticed hundreds of soldiers milling around and setting up metal detectors on the main street by the church. I figured it was another protest rally or something, but I really had no idea. I just strolled past with my head down like I had good sense.

When I got out of church, I couldn't believe my eyes. They were having a huge Saint Patrick's Day Parade. I stood and watched for a few minutes and then headed to meet some friends at the Electronics market (that experience was a whole other story within itself).

This week I had to make a trip to Siberia to visit with some customers. For those of you who aren't geographically gifted. Siberia is a LONG way away from Moscow (or anywhere for that matter). The travel agency that I used to book my trip got mixed up initially and tried to book my trip via train (it takes 48 hours by train). I ended up taking a three or four hour plane flight, and a six hour car ride to see the customer. To complicate matters, my phone broke on the flight to Siberia, so when I got off the plane I didn't know where to go, who to call, or what to do. I ended up just walking out of the airport, hoping that my driver would recognize me. He did, and he was holding a sign up that said Baker Hughes (Of course, he held the sign up from the warmth of his Land Rover, as he knew better than to get out in the cold). Did I mention that they had 4 foot of snow? CRAZY! We drove all day to the customer's field office.

When we arrived the safety girl gave me a brief run down (in broken English). I almost laughed out loud when she told me about their water system on site. She told me that the running water was not safe to drink, she then clarified that it was "only meant for human consumption". I was biting my lip not to laugh.

On the long ride back to the airport I begged my driver to stop at a convenience store so I could get something, anything, to eat (I hadn't eaten in 12 hours). He relented and pulled into what had to have been the worst truck stop/gas station that I've ever been to in my life. They had a café, but when I looked in the kitchen there was a cat laying on the kitchen counter next to where they put the food. I opted for potato chips instead of something fresh. I bought almost every bag of chips they had (bags of chips were all that they had to eat in the store). I would have killed someone for a Snicker bar (or anything Chocolate)!

When you can't read Russian you depend on pictures to help you thru. I had bought bags of chips with pictures of what appeared to be meat and seafood on the bags. I had never had Beef Stroganoff flavored chips before that day (I can now mark that off my list). I had also never had caviar flavored chips, nor will I ever again.

~The Moscow Correspondent

From our Moscow Bureau

Last week I went out to a bar on Thursday night called 'The Real McCoy' and it was awesome. They have live music 5 nights a week and I'd heard that the bands are great. The band I saw was fantastic (though I have no idea how to pronounce their name). They opened with a James Brown cover, and continued to play a variation of Russian and English cover songs. I heard Banana-rama, Pink Floyd, Stevie Ray Vaughan, but the one that brought the house down was 'Ghostbusters'. I've never heard it live. What a show! Who ya' gonna call?...


Also, this week was Pancake week here in Moscow. While the Russian pancake (called Blini) is nothing like what you'd find at IHOP, it's pretty dang good. It's sort of like a crepe. You can get them with honey, strawberry jam, or a variation of butters and creams. I think I had every variation that they could concoct at the Pancake Festival down by Red Square. The only pancake I didn't partake in was the one that had caviar and sour crème on top. DISGUSTING!


Also, Sunday I found a Church. It's called the International Christian Fellowship. It's located in a theater near the city center (Arbat). It's always a little awkward visiting a new church, but I think my experience this Sunday took the cake. I arrived a little late with one of my coworkers and his family. Most of the aisles were full, but we were able to find one that would accommodate all four of us, but several people had to stand up to let us by (since it's in a theater, everyone has their own seat). When I got to my seat in the middle of the aisle I sat down and the seat collapsed leaving me on the floor. I'd broken the seat and caused everyone in the vicinity of the accident to turn and laugh. No more flap jacks for me.



~The Moscow Correspondent

From our Moscow Bureau

A friend of mine recently moved to Russia. He'll be appearing on the QQ as a guest blogger from time to time. Here's his first update.
****

All is well here in Moscow. It's getting warmer every day. But with the warmer air, the snow is turning to rain. I've brought my dress shoes to work so that they won't be ruined. I wear my hiking boots to the office and then change when I get here. It all sounds good until you see me on the metro or walking down the street in a suit and hiking boots.

Also, I went and had Mexican food on Saturday. While it wasn't bad for Moscow, it was probably the worst Mexican food I've had in my life. They made me quesadillas with salami and cheese inside (pretty gross). They also made me a big bowl of guacamole. It smelled just like B.O. In fact, I thought it was me at first.

~The Moscow Correspondent