Um….so….we’ve gotten lazy with the blog.  I knew slacking was inevitable, I just didn’t think it would happen this early when TECHNICALLY I only work part time.  I don’t even know where to start.  I’ve missed reporting on about a million worthy topics/events, and it’s November.  I never wrote about Frankfurt. I think I’ll just make a list.  Because it saves me writing time and you reading time.  (By the way, we went to FF because Ryan had two weeks of training there.  When we first arrived in Moscow and I was jobless and freaked out about him leaving me behind all lonely in scary Russia, I decided I might as well take advantage of my flexible schedule and hop on the plane with him to Western Europe and have a lovely holiday.  I thought I’d get to stay in a nice paid-for hotel (see below), and I DID get to eat my heart out with Ryan’s generous per diem money.  Normally Ryan just returns from these trips with a wad of extra cash, but this time I thought I should help him eat  spend it all.  I’m very glad I went as we had a lovely time….and now I am indentured to the school. No more random 2 week vacations during the school year for me. 

Top 10 Favorite things About our Trip to Frankfurt (in no particular order):

1.  Food, Glorious Food.  I had lunch by myself at the farmers market nearly every day, usually   at Teo’s Italian Delicatessen with Teo’s cute son or nephew or young cousin as my server. He was the only one who spoke English.   I tried nearly every sandwich they made. Best panini was probably the marinated eggplant with arugula and pecorino cheese.  I lived the life of Samatha Brown. Naturally, I enjoyed my fair share of schnitzel, streusel, sausage, and sauerkraut, but that goes without saying.  I do love German food, but mostly I love all food in Germany (much of which is not traditionally German, but it is GOOD).

2.  Pedestrian friendliness. I enjoyed my rambles around the city (particularly by the river) every day while Ryan was in class.  No sludge of  cigarette butts, miscellaneous trash, and dog/horse poop (unlike, ahem, Moscow).  Cars actually stop at crosswalks (they don’t in Moscow).  Lots of bikes and cute doggies.  Clean air. Lovely weather.

3.  The Zoo.  Was pretty great. I quite enjoyed my late morning/early afternoon there. I felt like I had gone too long without seeing a giraffe or a flamingo in person, but now I’ve got my fix .  Do you ever feel that way?  I do sometimes.  It’s much, much better than the DC National Zoo…but….you do have to pay 8 euros (for an adult) to get in.  I bet that money contributes to the overall better quality of the zoo. I was honest and did not lie and say I was a student (though I could have gotten away with it) or that I was under 12 (which, I probably couldn’t have gotten away with that one).

4.  Goethe’s House.  Was lovely.  I have never read any of his works, but I now I think I must. I did not realize that he was the inventor of the bildungsroman (a fun term I love teaching high school kids because it’s so fun to say---it means “coming of age” or “identity” novel). It’s pretty much my favorite genre (think Jane Eyre, David Copperfield, Catcher in the Rye, etc), so now I must read something he wrote since, well…I’ve visited his lavish childhood home and saw his puppet theatre.

5. Shopping: Frankfurt has great shopping which is once again very accessible for a pedestrian. Even though Moscow has several H&M’s, Zara’s, and other such stores, the exchange rate for the Euro was looking much better for us there than here.  I stocked up on socks and tights and cute sweater dresses without breaking the bank. I also bought lots of fun exotic spices and such at the farmer’s market and specialty Asian cooking shops. J

6.Day trip to Heidelberg: What a beautiful and quintessentially European old town.  We took a tram up to the Castle where we accidently stumbled on a very nice (free!) concert of baroque music played on early instruments.  The town has one of the largest Christmas markets in the world (not happening in September, obviously), but I did visit a fun shop and bought a requisite wooden tree ornament of the 3 Magi. For dinner we had some kickin Spaezel…and gelato (see #1)  al fresco…as the sun was setting.  It was quite heavenly. 

7. Day trip to the Rhine Valley: Although these commercial group tours are often wrought with frustrations (see bottom list), the Rhine Valley /river itself was one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen. From our three hour boat tour, we saw dozens and dozens of the most archetypical castle-ly castles you could imagine.  These are the kind from which plastic sandcastle molds are inspired, so you know they’re the real deal. 

8. Connecting with Friends I got to hang out with my graduate school friend Maia (she spent the past two summers with me in both Sante Fe and Oxford), and the timing could not have been better as I was able to celebrate her completion of a series of very demanding exams for her degree.  She showed me around Frankfurt and took me to the most darling tea house I’ve ever seen.  Additionally, I got to see my Uncle’s brother Russell and his wife Ute just weeks before their wedding. They have an adorable chocolate lab appropriately named Cadbury. (Ute also has a son, but I didn’t get to meet him—just the puppy.)  

9. Everything’s in English—and Everyone SPEAKS English.  And even if it wasn’t or they didn’t, and even though I technically know much more Russian than German, German is so much easier to figure out than Russian.  Frankfurt is peppered with English speaking tourists. It was just so EASY.  

10.Television at hotel.  Yes, yes, we’ve got Netflix and slingbox here, but all that requires a lot of set up and heavily depends on a good internet signal….lately that hasn’t worked out so well for us.  Just to be able to simply turn on the television and watch anything, even in German, was quite a treat.  I took a liking to some of the German cooking shows. 

Top 5 list of things that were then annoying and are now Funny:

1.  The Hotel Diplomat.  A woefully ironic misnomer…or maybe not…maybe this is really more like the life of a real diplomat. Notice I was careful to compliment them on their television, because this was really all this place had going for it.  Ryan’s per diem normally allows him to stay at Western hotels no matter where he is in the world, but due to both an international car show and international book fair happening at the same time as our trip, all hotels were exponentially jacked up in price.  Hence, our only choice for a place in the heart of the city was this 2 star establishment that normally charges 39 Euro per night.  We paid (or the government paid—your TAX MONEY) close to 200 a night.  Now, I am not a hotel prima donna. I have backpacked around Europe for weeks on end with a very tight budget, and I’ve stayed  (comfortably, happily) in some pretty primitive hostels.  I’ve shared plenty of hall baths with total strangers.  But our bathroom (private though it was), was the worst I’ve ever seen.  It smelled like pee all the time, even after the maids “cleaned” it.  There was only the bath and the handheld sprayer—no shower curtain…no bath plug….so you just had to sit down and do your best.  Or stand (because the tub wasn’t terribly clean) and get water everywhere.  The mattress wasn’t bad, but our pillows were “stuffed” with about 17 cotton balls.  I’m pretty sure nothing had been updated since the early 80’s.  Breakfast wasn’t bad, except that the breakfast room always smelled like sour milk.  Oh well…at least it got me up and out of there fairly early in the day as I did not want to be in there any longer than required.  We paid for internet access, but the first room we stayed in (on the 3^rd floor) was too far away from the router.  They eventually switched us to a room on the first floor the second week (the place was booked to the max the first week due to the said events).  I think they changed the sheets sometimes, but I’m not really sure. I really don’t want to think about it—I’m just glad I’m home where I can wash my own.  They usually smelled of cigarette smoke no matter what.  My aunt (who has family in Frankfurt) informed us that we were just a blocks away from one of the red light districts.  We could see that…easily…

2. Rhine Tour Guide’s really bad English did not stop him from telling really bad jokes the entire bus ride back to Frankfurt (or generally talking incessantly).  His finale: First he asked, “Is there anyone younger than 18 on this bus?”  Never a good start.  Then he asked, “Why eez ze flounder zo zeen?”  (It took us a while to figure out that he was asking, “Why is the flounder so thin?” )  The answer?  “Because it had sex with a whale.”  Botta ching.  This is how he intended to earn good tips/reviews?   

3.  No regular café’s with free wifi to be found  I looked everywhere and could find no such thing.  I was sorely disappointed, because I thought I would sit in a café, have a cappuccino and write blogs.  (Okay, I guess I could have written one without internet and then posted it later , but that’s no fun.)  Seeing as I did not love hanging out in the soured milk scented breakfast room or yucky hotel room, I stayed fairly disconnected.  Not a bad thing—but really—Germany?  You’re so technologically advanced!  Where’s your internet?

4. Ryan’s Loud Coworkers with 3 Liter beers at Beer Garden.  Unfortunately this was the event that I invited my British uncle’s  brother Russell (and his now wife Ute, who is German) to attend with us.  They did show up a bit later, and I was pretty mortified to be associated with the American group at the time, great “ambassadors” that they were.  Sheesh.  Ryan was quite entertained by all it—especially by my reactionary embarrassment. 

5. Confusing public transit system. Luckily I rarely had to use it in Frankfurt, but when I did it wasn’t that easy or efficient.    Moscow’s definitely got Germany beat on this one.  The Moscow Metro rocks.

Here is a link to our pictures:

Well, I am sitting at my two star hotel breakfast table in Frankfurt
sipping my Kamile tee (chamomile tea) while I enjoy a vacation from my
new job. I’ve worked for a full three weeks (part time), and then
I’ve taken a two week vacation in Western Europe. Let me tell
you—it’s a hard life I’ve been leading. But anyway, many of you had
questions about my new “job” at the international school, so I thought
I’d write this blog about my job before I tell you more about Moscow
or Frankfurt.
So, if you read my previous blogs you’ll know that although the
school interviewed me (and said they wanted to hire me ) for a high
school English teaching position, but the position fell through at the
last minute when a teacher changed her mind about taking over the PE
position. They assured me they could keep me quite busy substituting
(if I wanted to be), and they really weren’t kidding. They called me
the next day and asked if I’d like to substitute for the band
director’s assistant (which was actually a vacancy). The HR lady
said, “You know, you said you were musical.” Indeed, I did tell them I
played piano and sang occasionally. I reminded her that I did not
play any other instruments or conduct or anything of the sort. She
said that was fine. So, I reported to the school the day before the
students arrived, met the band director, and started my job at helping
her with everything imaginable. What does a band director need help
with? Everything. It’s a crazy job (band director, that is) that I
would never, ever want even if I did know how to play a clarinet.
But, my job is a “fun” and fairly rewarding position. First of all,
it’s only part time. Rather than going in everyday for part of the
day, I only go every other day. The schedule is a bit complicated at
the school, but if you’re familiar with an alternating A/B or 1/2 day
high school schedule, it’s similar. So I only go on “A” days, which
usually means M, W, F one week, and Tues/Thurs the following week.
This is actually what really sold me on the position. It allows me a
bit of time off while I’m still adjusting to life in Moscow, and
eventually, I’d like to start taking regular substitute jobs on the
off days (not only for extra $$, but also to get a taste of regular
classroom environments at the school). And finally, should an English
teaching position become available during this school year, they said
they’re no problem with me switching contracts in the middle of the
year, and in fact, that happens fairly frequently at the school. Good
to know…
The band director is a friendly, energetic, and very gifted woman
originally from Lancaster, PA. Her husband teaches elementary art at
the school, and they have a son in the 4th grade. They’ve only been
in Moscow one year, so she is quite sympathetic to my general
bewilderment. Even though I’m not a band person, I can be helpful in
a variety of capacities. She has five classes, and all five are
different age groups: 6th grade band, 7th grade band, 8th grade band,
high school band, and then a random guitar class. The days I’m with
her she teaches 6th and 7th (the ones she can really use my help
herding around) and high school. The off days for me are her easier
days with more planning time. She’s really trying to build what was
(she said) a fairly weak band program (obviously there is no American
football team at the school). But, due to her recruiting of last
year’s 5th graders, we’ve got over 60 6th graders who are brand new to
band. Joy. She actually worked something out with their other
elective teachers so that we have half of the 6th graders for half of
the 80 minute period, and they switch and we get the other group.
It’s complicated to explain (again, the complicated schedule), but the
idea was that it would be better to have them in band class more
frequently for a shorter amount of time in these beginning years—even
when they learn to play a few notes, their lips won’t be ready for an
hour of rehearsal yet. So yes…good idea…or so she thought, but this
means that in 160 minutes, we’ve seen 4 (still large) groups of 6th
and 7th graders (with no bells to help us with class changes). And
considering we had to spend the first two weeks screening all 60 plus
6th graders for choosing an instrument (and then sold and/or rented
instrument of choice to them…converting dollars to rubles and vice
versa)….well…let’s just say that I’ve come home absolutely worn out
every day that I’ve worked. The 6th graders are beginning to grow on
me a bit more—they are quite malleable and even the really wild,
chatty group is starting to shape up, but my first impression was a
deep urge to run as far away as possible in the other direction.
I really do love the school. I think I’d have a smashing time
teaching high school English there (and my classes would stay around
18 kids!). This band deal really breaks the mold of a normal teaching
position, but I guess I am learning a good bit. I didn’t realize that
there were different reeds for nearly every woodwind, or how often one
must replace them. (It’s funny when a clueless 6th grader asks me if
his reed is clamped on right, and I say, “Sure—looks good to me…but
maybe you should ask Mrs. W_____, just to check.” A lot of my job is
more organizational/secretarial—I make lots of charts of instrument
inventory,etc. These are not always my strongest skills, but I
suppose it’s good to get some practice without having to worry about
other things (like being observed by crazy supervisors who have a
vendetta against certain works of Shakespeare, namely, the more
interesting ones, for no apparent reason). All the faculty and
administrators I’ve met are really lovely, approachable people, and
even though it’s K-12 and one of the larger international schools,
it’s still pretty small and intimate. People remember your name.
I’ve discovered a number major perks to being employed at the school,
even if I don’t yet have my dream job. First and foremost in my list
of needs: the food. The cafeteria at the school is WONDERFUL and
open all day and into the evening. It is quite possibly the best food
I’ve had in Russia (this isn’t saying much, but still) and it’s by far
the cheapest. I can get a large hot meal, a salad, a drink, and
dessert for about $4.00. That’s a good deal anywhere, but do you
realize that that even a modest meal out in Russia is going to cost
you $20.00 at minimum? Groceries are expensive (and sometimes of
dubious quality) as well…so….even if I don’t make much money right
now, I know I’m saving considerably on food. I can grab
breakfast/snack in the morning….tea/fancy coffee drinks/snacks all
day….after school you can literally get a full meal (I’m not!), but
what a good idea for these kids who have sports practice until late,
right? They’ve got a healthy after-school snack right there. You can
even get take out boxes and take home a pizza or chicken curry for
your dinner…..or, if you have a late evening there (like, a band
concert), you can just eat dinner there. Parents are welcome to eat
there as well, and they often do. It’s much more of a community
cafeteria, and that’s sort of nice, on many levels.
As I was relishing my lunch and praising the wonders of the quality
and pricing, several teachers warned me, “Be careful, or you’ll gain
15+ pounds like I did last year.” Ha ha—but, they let me know that
there’s a nice workout room that teachers can use, and there’s even a
trainer guy that does group sessions for teachers every day from 4-5pm
(or, as we now say, 1600-1700). I swear I’m going to start going when
I get back. Really.
My commute to/from school has become a comfortable, worry free ordeal
for me now. I’ve got the metro trek down to a science, and some
mornings I’m able to make the whole process (door to door)in as few as
40 minutes. (Remember that we live in the southern part of the city,
and the school is in the northwestern outskirts). I’m even relaxed
enough to start reading on the long part of the metro ride. The
shuttles that take me from the metro station to the school (and vice
versa in the PM) are frequent, punctual, safely driven, and free. I
am absolutely convinced there is no way I could drive there in much
less time, especially in the afternoons—especially in snow and
negative temperatures. As a result, I think I’m going to become a
full time public transportation commuter. I’ve always liked this
idea, and now for once it’s truly practical. The school does not pay
for the metro, but it’s so cheap compared to the DC metro (like a $1 a
ride), I’m not concerned at all. Actually, I think we’ve decided I
should go ahead and buy the year fare card—it’s about $350 or so, but
(as its title indicates), gives you unlimited metro rides for an
entire year. That’s a pretty great deal. Ryan already has one.
Another perk is that (supposedly) Russian classes for faculty will
start soon (these are optional of course)….either in the morning or
afternoon. I’m really hoping for some afternoon sessions, because I
already have to get up really early to get to school by 7:50—7:30 is
pushing it for me. But, either way, this is great because the classes
offered at the embassy are during the day when I’m working…not to
mention, they are inconveniently at the embassy, which is neither
where I live nor where I work. I mentioned that the school in many
ways is like “its own little embassy,” and someone said that they
really think of it in that way, and the folks who live in Pokrovsky
Hills (the residential community with the beautiful town homes right
by the school) really use it like one. So yes—the school has
everything I need and, unlike the embassy, I feel like and am treated
like I belong there.
After just a few days of “helping,” the band director decided she
would love to officially offer me the official contractual position of
teaching assistant (apparently I’m quite good at making copies after
years of practice), so they school is kindly making it out to start
Sept. 28th through the end of the year. This allowed me to still take
my lovely vacay in Germany without concern of time off.  The
contract is good because being a real TA pays much more than
substituting as the TA, but it does not pay that much more than a
regular teacher substitute job (in fact, I figured out it only pays
about $5 more dollars a day). But, it’s more consistent and
potentially more interesting/helpful/productive. And I get to listen
to 7th graders practice “Can Santa Can Can,” which, right now, is
sounding more like “Can Santa Honk Honk.” Beautiful.

The flight from Moscow to Vladivostok is roughly the same duration as the flight from Washington DC to Moscow. Russia is big. I was booked on an overnight flight with my favorite airline (sarcasm) - Aeroflot. The flight was on a Boeing 767 so I avoided the Ilyushin-96 which Aeroflot has a few of. I arrived at my gate at Shremyetevo airport about 90 minutes before boarding. The line to board started an hour before the flight was to leave (even though no one was at the gate). Apparently everyone was VERY anxious to get to Vladivostok. Little did they know that their attempt to get to Vladivostok that much sooner was going to fail miserably. When we finally boarded we were greeted by the smell of warm piss - which, during the course of the flight changed to the smell of cold piss. Also, the flight was packed and somehow I managed to get stuck in a middle seat. Great - a middle seat for a 9 hour flight. For the first 3 hours of the flight I'm pretty sure the pilot was deliberately flying through clouds to ensure maximum turbulence. The poor woman sitting in front of me nearly puked then almost passed out. It also made pissing in the toilet very difficult (probably the reason for the persistent smell). Luckily just because the seat belt sign was on didn't mean you couldn't hit the bathroom - because 3 hours is a while to hold it in.

The plane had a (very old) entertainment system in the form of a couple TV's mounted in each section. Airline movies almost always suck and this flight was no exception. One movie was 100% Russian. It had something to do with a magician in medieval times.The only reason I watched any of it was that occasionally a group of court jesters would break into crazy dances out in a field. As far as I could tell the jesters and dancing had nothing to do with the actual plot of the movie. It was like a weird twist on something out of Bollywood. Every time they broke into dance I couldn't help but look up and watch.The second movie was half Russian/half American. It involved a Russian speaking man and his English speaking daughter(?). It was filmed in the US. I knew this from the large number of Ford pick-up trucks in the background of many scenes. It was also probably 10 years old. This I knew because they would occasionally drive past gas stations and the price of gas was $1.32. They showed the same movies going and coming which is the only reason I was able to provide the above analysis of second movie. The third movie was one of Eddie Murphy's recent flops. I completely ignored that one on both flights.

After about 9 hours we were coming into Vladivostok airspace. The movies has ended so the GPS was showing on the TV screens. The time-to-destination dropped to 25 minutes, then 20 minutes, then back up to 25 minutes then 30 minutes, then back to 25 minutes. What the heck? Apparently there was fog in Vladivostok so the plane was circling waiting for it to lift. We circled for 2 hours. Eventually they gave up and diverted the plane to Khabarovsk. When the plane hit the runway in Khabarovsk we almost went into a power slide. If you've seen the movie Air Force One where the 747 is careening around Rammstein AFB - that's not far from what our flight felt like. One they finally got the plane going straight everyone started clapping. There was no clapping from me. Call me conceited, but I only clap when the plane lands at the destination on my ticket.

So now I'm in Khabarovsk. Never heard of Khabarovsk? There's a reason for that. Khabarovsk is another hour (and 700km) north of Vladivostok. It's close enough to the Chinese border that my mobile phone kept switching between Russian and Chinese service providers. You'd think that being a few kilometers from the Chinese border you'd see some Chinese people. Nope - all Russians. Even the Chinese don't want to go to Khabarovsk. There was mass confusion in Khabarovsk. No one, including the airport authorities or Aeroflot knew what to do with a planeload of people who are 700km from there they want to be. There were about 4 "ringleaders" who were particularly upset (they were probably at the front of the boarding line in Moscow). They convinced the woman at the information booth at the airport to come out of her office then promptly pushed their way into the office and started loudly berating her. Gotta love Russians. My Russian language skills aren't very good so I had no idea what was going on. In this instance it wasn't really hurting me. I just watched the crowd and made sure they didn't go anywhere without me. After a couple hours of confusion Aeroflot was able to get a plan put together. They were going to bus everyone into Khabarovsk to a hotel for the afternoon, then bus us back to the airport that night to finish the flight to Vladivostok. It was about 1pm when they got the plan sorted out and the bus back to the airport was set for 7:30pm for a 10pm flight. I figured this out because there was a Russian professor on the flight who spoke English and gave me the low-down.

So, they herded everyone out to 3 buses which looked like they belonged in Pakistan or India. I half expected to see chicken or a goat when I got on the bus. By this time I was pretty exhausted and was ready to sleep so the condition of the bus didn't really bother me. They put us all up at a "5 Star Hotel" (according to their literature). By my estimation this must have been on a scale of 100. They gave us a meal voucher for lunch and dinner at the "7 Star Restaurant" (also on a scale of 100). The room had an old-school rotary phone, a small bathroom where the whole room was the shower, toilet and sink and two twin beds. Luckily one of the twin beds had tiger sheets so I could sleep comfortably. I laid down and took a nice 3 hour nap (sleeping though lunch). I woke up and headed to the restaurant to use my dinner voucher. The restaurant had pre-made meals for all the Aeroflot guests. The main course was, for all practical purposes, a fish pancake. I took one bite and no more. I ate some of the rice on the side and headed down the street to see if there was anything better. About 2 blocks away was a mall that looked like a spaceship. On the top floor was a Baskin Robbins so I completed my dinner with a waffle cone and 2 scoops of ice cream (which was had for 50% cheaper than the Baskin Robbins in Moscow). I wasn't able to stay long as I needed to get back to the hotel to catch the bus back to the airport.

Since they bussed us back to the airport at 7:30pm and the flight didn't leave until 10pm, everyone had some time to kill. I wandered into a small souvenir shop to check out the postcards. I was curious to see if there were any cultural attractions in Khabarovsk that maybe I was unaware of. On the cover of a pack of Khabarovsk postcards was a large communist style concrete building that looks like most any concrete building anywhere in Russia. Nope - I didn't miss anything. We finally got back on the plane and flew to Vladivostok (thankfully uneventfully). I finally arrived at my hotel at 12:30am, 29 hours after starting my journey in Moscow.

The whole trip had great weather - sunny and 80 degrees. The first night I was there I walked down to the boardwalk and had a good pizza at an Italian restaurant. It would have been perfect except for an annoying group of Hare Krishna's singing the same crappy song over and over again for 2 straight hours. No wonder no one wants to join your dirty hippie group. Near the restaurant was a beach with a very prominently displayed "No Swimming" sign. It probably said that because Vladivostok doesn't have any sewage treatment - everything just dumps into the ocean. It obviously wasn't very meaningful because the water was packed with swimmers. In fact there was a whole industry of inflatable tube rentals, etc. that were operating in spite of the "No Swimming" restriction. One of the small businesses was quite interesting. They would put someone (usually a child) in a plastic ball, inflate it and then seal the ball with duct tape so water wouldn't get in. The person would then run around like a hamster. As far as I could tell, the child would then continue until they got tired or passed out from lack of oxygen. At this point the ball is pulled back in (it's on a long string) and opened up to prevent too much brain damage to the occupant. Once revived the occupant can then decide if he/she wants to pay for another go.

The Vladivostok boardwalk is also the only place in Russia where it is illegal to drink beer. Everywhere else in Russia you can drink beer wherever you want - the street, a park, work (although not mine). The Vladivostok boardwalk is alcohol-free and, unlike the rules at the beach, seemed to be followed. I was pondering the non-drinking situation when a small car drives along the boardwalk (yes, occasionally a car would drive along it - I don't know if this was legal or not, but it happened nonetheless) with a monkey in the backseat. At first I thought it was a dog, then I saw it had a face ... and was looking at me. I can't have a beer but that guy can have a monkey! Anyway, after hanging out on the boardwalk for a while I walked around town - but not too long as the hills are intense. I was sweating my arse off after about 5 blocks. The Hotel Hyundai had a Skybar on the 12th (top) floor where I could drink overpriced Japanese beer with the view of the city and not have to huff up and down hills. The final night I was there I went to a (surprisingly) good Indian restaurant. It was the first Indian I had since moving to Russia and it was delicious. It was run by real Indians (who also spoke English). That restaurant will be high on my list the next time I'm in Vladivostok (assuming it stays in business).

The next morning I got a ride to the airport for my 10:20am flight back to Moscow. For a city of only 500,000 they decided to put the airport far away from the city. It took us nearly an hour to get out there - although the roads were in pretty bad shape. The hills around downtown probably have something to do with it, but there was definitely some flat space closer to the city. The airport is small - about half the size of the Greenville-Spartanburg Airport (for my SC readers). The main airline there is Vladivostok Air (which you can fly to Khabarovsk if you want!). Aeroflot has two flights a day from Moscow to Vladivostok. We found out (too late) that the earlier flight is an old 767. The later flight is a brand new Airbus A330 with video screens on the back of every seat. We chose poorly in both directions and took the same crappy 767 back to Moscow. Luckily the piss smell was gone. The same 3 crappy movies were showing on the trip back which didn't matter since I slept through half the flight anyway. Luckily there were no fiascoes getting back to Moscow. However, as a final farewell,Aeroflot decided to park next to an aerial walkway but not actually use it. Despite being 15 feet from the walkway, we had to take the stairs  out of the plane and huff it through the rain to a bus which drove us to another terminal.  Unfortunately I left 80 degrees and sun in Vladivostok for 55 degrees and rain in Moscow. Oh well, it's still better than 100 degrees and smoke.

　

Today marks one week in Moscow for Katie (who’s writing this). Last
night I had my first taste of Russian high culture at the ballet and
then with my first stroll through Red Square. As soon as Ryan arrived
here about 6 weeks ago, I started getting newsletters from the AECA
(The American Embassy Community Association), which, among other
things, often gets groups tickets to various events and offers them to
us for a good rate. So, I let Ryan know almost a month ago that I
wanted to see Sleeping Beauty—Tchaikovsky’s rarely performed ballet
(though the music has remained quite popular). Way back in July, I
assumed this silly Russian heat wave would have passed, and at the
time the forest fires and toxic smog were not yet an issue. At any
rate, yesterday (Saturday) was actually the clearest and coolest day
I’ve seen here—we could actually see patches of blue sky, and the
temp. only reached the high 80’s: a dramatic improvement from the high
90’s or low 100’s. Still, it had not occurred to me until we received
warnings from the Embassy that the theatre itself would not be air
conditioned. They advised taking bottled water and purchasing one of
the reasonably priced lady’s fans sold at the theatre. We did both,
and we also felt we needed some ice cream during intermission. (While
nearly everything in Moscow is exorbitantly priced, cultural events,
plastic hand fans, and ice cream sold at intermission is a DEAL).
While the heat wasn’t very pleasant, after a week of acclamation to
generally unpleasantness whenever I am outside of our apt (and
sometimes when in it), it wasn’t so bad. Especially when they turned
off the lights. The theatre itself was small with hard wood floors.
Most of the seats were on the floor level—there were several
balconies, but not much seating available in them. The crowd was on
the younger side—many folks our age…a few young mothers with their
very young daughters who were dressed in pink leotards with skirts
(yes, I was slightly jealous and wished I had such an outfit). I
believe the performing company was the Moscow Youth Ballet (or
something like that), and the dancers all looked fairly young—probably
late teens and early twenties. I’m not really sure at what age ballet
dancers typically “peak,” but I think it’s generally older than most
gymnasts or figure skaters (so long as they continue to maintain like
3% body fat). But, snob that I am, I could also tell they were not
the most skilled dancers in the world (though maybe they will be in a
few years). ( Back in college, I actually saw the real adult Moscow
Ballet Company perform Swan Lake at the Peace Center in Greenville,
SC—now that was exquisite. This was not quite that caliber.) Still,
for performing under hot lights in 88 degrees (probably 95 degrees for
them), they were pretty outstanding. The orchestra was live,
carefully hidden in a completely inconspicuous orchestra pit, and the
music was quite good. The story was---well….not as intriguing as the
Disney version (the only other one I knew to compare). I’ve found the
“plot” of a ballet becomes fairly secondary to opportunities to show
off skillz…probably 75% of the “action” involved all the various
fairies and courtiers showing off their arabesques for the king and
queen—the Prince never battled the evil Wizard (a man in this
version—not that badass Maleficent evil fairy in the Disney
version)…and Rose (or Aurora?? There was no program—not like we could
have read it anyway…) was only a sleeping beauty for about 60 seconds
of stage time before the Prince managed to find her. Whatever. It
was all very lovely, and if you go to the ballet for good story,
you’ll always be disappointed. Read a book or watch a movie for that.
Go to the ballet for lovely music, lovely dancing, and pretty sparkly
costumes. And men in ridiculous tights and other apparatus. Ryan
expressed discomfort with their “immodesty.”
I’d really like to take some ballet lessons. I’m on the lookout for
some around here. I think it would make me a better figure skater and
a generally less clumsy person. I never took dance lessons as a kid
(seeing as clogging was about the only option in our neck of the
woods), but it’s not too late, right? Ballet slippers are only $12.50
(online, anyway), and a wood floor is much easier to find than ice.
And less expensive. In fact, there is much unoccupied wooden floor
space in our apartment. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? I’ll get
a job one of these days—I promise.

In the past 8 weeks or so, just about everyday has included at least one blog worthy event.  I finally wrote one in Oxford during the second half of the session (that being the second entry I’d ever contributed to ryanlyford.com—a blog that’s supposed to represent The Lygers, not just him), but maybe now that a) I am currently unemployed (and even if I were, I am still on summer break) and b) I have finished my masters (I hope I don’t decide I need another degree later down the road), I really have no excuse to not write.  And write I should, because Moscow provides much fodder for writing, even when one stays indoors for most of the day.

So generally, Oxford was lovely.  I worked really hard and, as usual, felt like I was about the second dumbest and least well read person in the program.  As uncomfortable as that is, I think that’s a good place to be.  Besides the obligatory school wide trips to Stratford for plays and a few Chaucer class field trips to London, I was kind of an antisocial loser.  Unlike most students who read their primary texts before they got there, I was too busy finishing out a school year at a new school until 48 hours until I left, and in my spare time I was trying to get in gear for our big move here.  Okay, some of my spare time was spent on a Memorial Day trip to NYC with Lyfords, attending various going away parties thrown for us and other foreign service folks, church committees, kayaking on the Potomac—all good stuff.  I’m glad I wasn’t wasting my time reading Chaucer then.  But to make up for lost time, once I got to Oxford , instead of packing in all my European vacation dreams like folks did, I read Chaucer (and stuff critics had to say about Chaucer) like a banchee.  And it wasn’t all bad—whereas all the thousands of tourists who flocked to Oxford every weekend could only take pictures of the exterior of the Bodleian Library and Radcliffe Camera, I got to do my work inside them (upstairs with lovely view of the surrounding spires).  It makes sense to study when you in Oxford—more so there than say Rio de Janeiro. 

Ryan arrived just a few hours after my last class meeting (and about 18 hours after I had submitted my final paper).  We had a great time putting around Oxford on Wednesday and Friday and in London on Thursday.  I had been planning our day in London in my head for weeks prior. I at least used to know the city well when I stayed there for several weeks in college, but much has happened in my life in 7 years. I found I had forgotten much of what I thought I knew. I really wanted to go to a free lunch-time recital at St. Martin’s in the Field church in Trafalgar Square, one of my favorite free things to do during my undergrad London stay. I had even checked the schedule the week before, and the concerts seemed to be ongoing daily…I just assumed they hadn’t yet made out the schedule for the day we were going. (These concerts typically feature local music students from various Conservatories—they’re informal and often scheduled fairly last minute.)  At any rate, there was no concert for all the month of August (that day was about August 5^th,  I think)—just prayer and communion.  Bummer.  So we used the bathroom at the National Gallery and headed North to the British Library, the main reason I decided I needed one more day in London.  Their current map exhibit is very cool (Ryan especially enjoyed it—at one point there was an old map of Boston, and he was having a fun time explaining to these old British men which parts of the river had been filled in).  But I had really come to see the preserved manuscripts.  The luminaries and Gutenberg bibles and such were pretty magnificent, but I, of course, was more taken by Jane Austen’s letters, and Charlotte Bronte’s original handwritten copy of Jane Eyre which was opened to the last chapter which starts off famously: “Reader, I married him.” After a few hours at the library, we headed down south to St. Paul’s hoping to climb up to the dome.  Unfortunately, we arrived about half an hour too late.  Oh well. I’ve learned that in Europe you have to do everything between 10 am and 4 pm…and that lunch breaks are sometimes 11am to 2 pm….and if you can’t pack in everything you want to see in the 3 remaining hours, tough luck.  We ate Indian food that night and saw The Secret of Sherlock Holmes. The acting was good (just two men—Holmes and Watson), but R and I were both underwhelmed. Honestly, it was the least interesting production I’ve ever seen in British Isles(and I’ve seen a LOT of theatre in UK …and even some in Ireland.)  There was no secret—as was advertised in the title--just a homage to all the backstories we already knew. I was trying to be a good wife and let Ryan pick the show when we bought half price tickets that morning in Leicester Square.  Maybe I’ll choose next time. J

I think Ryan’s already written about Friday and Saturday in Oxford—graduation was Saturday afternoon.  Everything went smoothly, except that it poured down rain all morning and the portion of the afternoon that we were supposed to have a reception in the Rector’s garden—a sacred patch of grass in which no one is allowed except after their graduation.  It was moved indoors to room I could have gone in anytime.  Oh well.  I discovered I really like a Pimm’s—England’s version of a sangria or Long Island iced tea.

It does seem that the weather/climate has dominated our lives lately.  I think I breathed cleaner air in Oxford than I had in years and years—there are few cars, all the buses run off clean gas or are hybrids or something…and it’s far away enough from London to be fairly green and pristine. I loved jogging by the Thames and noticing how much nicer the water smelled than the Potomac. I guess that doesn’t necessarily indicate it was any cleaner, but I think maybe it is.  I think it’s good that Ryan was able to set up camp in Moscow first so that I could mentally prepare myself for the bizarre and hazardous heat wave and subsequent smokiness from raging forest fires.  I had originally envisioned Moscow’s summer as akin to England’s—usually hovering around 75 degrees, sunny or rainy, but perfectly pleasant for outside activities and sightseeing. I thought it was the Winter that kept people indoors around here.  And usually (as in the past 1000 years of record keeping), I think it all that it true.  This week we did have about 2 days of relative clarity—i.e. we could see some blue sky….we didn’t smell smoke, but it seems that was a temporary reprieve.  They’ve issued a voluntary evacuation for nonessential personnel and family members (in other words, they would send me back to the states…or wherever, for free), but I don’t want to deal with all that.  Getting through customs was enough of a hassle even with Ryan helping me.  However, if Ryan weren’t so “essential” we might just get out of here for a while. 

But our apartment is fantastic—I’ve never had such a great view (okay, the mountains in Pickens are great, but I mean a view from my own place…where I pay the bills.  Actually, we don’t pay the bills here, but you know what I mean).  At least I can survey the visibility with pretty good accuracy because, when all is clear, we can see for quite a few miles.  I love the hardwood floors, the fancy tiling in the bathrooms and kitchen, and I actually really like the classy furniture.  Some foreign service people complain about the dark stuffiness of it, but I think it suits me well.  There is so much more to say, but this entry is way too long as it is.  I think many other anecdotes and challenges we’ve faced in the past week (and will continue to face, I’m sure) deserve their own post.  Stay tuned for stories about grocery stores (and prices), the sometimes dark orange bathwater, Russian “fashion,” Gorky Park, Farmer’s Markets, our neighbor friends Joe and Hind, ordering from Papa John’s Pizza.ru, my inevitable job hunt, figure skating at the mall, and my lack of Russian language skillz. 

Last week I traveled to England to see my wife graduate to be a Master in English. I consider myself a mere amateur in the language and find this quite impressive. She is part of the Breadloaf School of English at Middlebury College. This year she attended their campus at Lincoln College (Oxford University) whence she graduated.

I left my apartment in downtown Moscow a little before 8am to catch my 11am flight at Sheremetyevo airport. Rather than hire a car I decided to take the new airport train. The train leaves from Belorussky station (which is only a few metro stops from my apartment) and goes straight to Sheremetyevo every 30 minutes or so for a mere $10 (compared to ~$75 to hire a car or taxi). The trip to the airport was uneventful.

Much had changed at Sheremetyevo since I was there last in 2006. There is a new terminal and I believe they have refurbished one of the old ones. The terminal I flew into was new and reminded me very little of the horrendous terminal I was in 4 years ago. Aside from there being no toilet paper in any bathroom in the concourse, the terminal was very nice.

The fun began when I got to Heathrow. I've used my acute powers of observation over the last months to learn that Russians hate lines. Russians will also do whatever is necessary to avoid standing in line for an extended period of time. Our flight arrived at Heathrow just after a Delta flight from America. The Delta passengers had a slight time advantage getting to the passport control queue and were waiting patiently in line when Aeroflot Flight 281 from Moscow came storming down the hall. The Russians basically disregarded the existing line and muscled their way pasted the dumbstruck Americans to get to the front as quickly as possible. The poor Americans had no idea what was going on. They used phrases like, "Can you believe that guy just did that?", but of course were too nice to make any confrontations. When the dust had settled all the Russians were at the front of the queue and the Americans, still not understanding what had just happened, were at the back.

I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 4 to find it was the only terminal where there wasn't a bus to Oxford. After walking around looking at signs like a lost tourist, I eventually went to the underground and took the tube (subway) to Terminal 4. With as much money as has been put into Heathrow, I still don't think they've got the transfer between terminals down quite right yet. To get from Terminal 4 to Terminal 5 (where I was told to catch my Oxford bus by the Information Desk) you actually need to take a train to the Terminal 1/2/3 stop, then get on another train to Terminal 5. What a pain in the arse. On the trip home I found out that the other option was to take a city bus that stopped at all the cargo terminals along the way - not a significantly better option. I finally made it to Terminal 5, found the Oxford bus and was on my way.   

In true Katie-fashion, I had full intentions of writing weekly blogs
about my time in Oxford, and in even more Katie-like fashion, these
weekly blogs have yet to manifest themselves. So, I will write one
today, seeing as my eyes and brain need a break after a couple of
hours of reading Chaucer in Middle English.
For those of you who don’t know, let me explain a bit about the
program that has allowed me to “study at Oxford” and graduate “from
Oxford.” I’m actually a graduate student (for just a week and half
more!) at Middlebury College, which is located in the bustling
metropolis of Middlebury, VT(population 8,000). Middlebury, like
Furman, is a private liberal arts college with just a few graduate
programs. They’re fairly well known for their language immersion
schools, but they also have a summer English graduate program called
the Bread Loaf School of English. I really hate people explaining to
people that I attend a school named after a pantry item, but see, this
school is located up the hill from Middlebury in Ripton, VT (think
Yankee Pumpkin Town) with a view of Bread Loaf Mountain (part of the
Green Mountains). It really does look like a loaf of bread. Imagine,
If you will, if there were a Table Rock School of English or a
Caesar’s Head School of English near Furman. Hmm…both of those
actually sound less ridiculous. Anyway, I swear it’s all legit:
http://www.middlebury.edu/blse.
There are currently 4 campuses, although I’ve actually been to 5
different locations (and I have suggested that I should get a special
award for this). When I started this program in 2006, I was able to
attend the campus in Juneau, Alaska for what would end up being the
last time.  After that I attended the obligatory Vermont hub(2007),
then Asheville (2008), Santa Fe (2009), and now Oxford. A normal run
at BLSE takes you five summers in order to complete an MA in English.
After all this time and water under the bridge, I can hardly believe
I’ve arrived, but then again, it’s been a long time. I’m ready. I
would say that this year in Oxford and my first year in Juneau will
tie for first place in my book, although Santa Fe was pretty great too
(lots of outdoor opera, beautiful sunsets, and free margaritas). I’ll
further analyze the pros and cons of each campus and reflect on my
over experience in later blogs. I should have plenty of spare time in
the upcoming weeks.
So yes, I’ve been hanging out in Oxford for exactly one month today.
My professor, John Fyler, is the director of the Bread Loaf program
here at Lincoln College and actually teaches at Tufts University.
(And, he’s one of the contributing editors of the most recent edition
of The Riverside Chaucer. That’s not intimidating or anything.) I
could have taken a wide variety of other courses actually taught by
Oxford professors, but I think I’m actually glad I didn’t. I think.
The other classes meet far less frequently than mine does, and by all
accounts, they seem to have less work to do. Now, I’m not making any
judgment calls here. I think the “Oxford Style” is a bit more laissez
faire—you get out of the class what you put into it…the professor is
more of a guide...your class meets twice a week….maybe…..you’re mostly
on your own. But, as much as I hate to admit it, considering what I
paid to come here, and considering that this campus only involves one
course (worth 6 credits) rather than 2 (each worth 3 credits), I do
think that I am ultimately learning and stretching myself more in my
Chaucer boot camp class. John is a wonderful man, and despite the
frenetic pace, his kind patience gives us the sense that we’re all
going to do well. I’ve never studied any medieval literature, so I’m
filling in a major academic gap. However, as a result, I haven’t
gotten out of my room, the classroom, or the library very often.
Speaking of libraries, I do indeed possess a reader’s card for the
Bodleian library:http://www.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/bodley . Yes, I did
have to take the official oath in order to receive it, but experience
was far less dramatic than I had envisioned. I think I pictured our
class lined up (after an inspiring speech from the library’s director
or something), us all raising our right hands, and reciting it all
together. Or maybe I thought we had to memorize it. I also thought the
oath would have something to do with academic integrity, the pursuit
of knowledge, or intellectual freedom or something kind of nerdy and
esoteric like that. Anyway, as it turned out, a lady in a black robe
did give us a cool history lesson about the origins of the library and
this Mr. Bodley dude. She also told us a bit more about the nuts and
bolts of ordering books to certain reading rooms (a major pain—though
I am getting used to it), and after that, we divided up into 3 lines
according to our last name, and two other assistants helped in
listening to each one of us reading the pledge and watching us sign
the contract so they could hand us our card. As a matter of fact, it
was about as ceremonious as getting my new social security card
(though quicker, and far more pleasant at least). By the way: here’s
the uninspiring pledge:
I hearby undertake not to remove from the Library, or to mark, deface,
or injure in any way, any volume, document, or other object belonging
to it or in its custody; not to bring into the Library or kindle
therein any fire or flame, and not to smoke in the Library; and I
promise to obey all the rules of the Library.
By the way, I’m sure some of you know that you can’t check out a book
from the library. And the summer library hours are limited. This can
make serious research a major challenge.
In addition to its lovely college campuses (Lincoln is one nearly 45
colleges within Oxford), Oxford is also a lively small city.
Actually, the fact that I can easily walk to everything I need (i.e.
Boots, Ryman’s stationary, cafes/restaurants/pubs, shops) is one of
the main reasons I love this campus. It doesn’t involve a 20 minute
drive down a mountain or a 3 mile walk in the blazing hot sun. I could
have easily spent all of my time visiting all the colleges (each with
its distinct architecture and personality), the various museums,
trying out all the restaurants, shopping at boutiques, Oxfam stores,
covered and open markets, I could go punting on the Isis, I could
jogging by the river and see fields of horses and wild flowers and
Norman churches (and sometimes I do), but mostly I read Chaucer…or
read what other smart people have written about Chaucer. Or I write
my own not-so-smart papers about Chaucer’s stuff.
I’ve take a few day trips to London. It’s been a very strange
experience revisiting this amazing city that seven years ago when I
stayed there for six weeks in college, I felt I knew pretty well . The
bus from Oxford to London takes an hour and half one way, so anytime
you go there you’re committed to spending about a third to a quarter
of your day on the bus. It makes me really appreciate how fortunate I
was to stay at the Royal National right by Russell Square for weeks on
end—you just can’t be satisfied with short one-day-at a-time trips to
London. As soon as we get there I feel like it’s time to start
looking for our bus again (which is harder than getting around London
herself). But, this stint is special because Oxford is my temporary
“home,” and it’s pretty wonderful too.
I fear this has been a really boring blog, but I had to start
somewhere. In exactly one week, I will be (I think) free of my
academic burdens as my last paper will be turned in. Maybe blogging
will give me something to do whilst I eagerly await for Ryan to arrive
next Wednesday for a few days of play and then for graduation! And
then…on to Moscow. Needless to say, as much as I’m relishing the
charm of England and the coziness of day to day life here, I’m quite
anxious to start making that Moscow apartment a home…and to “be
home”…which is, of course, wherever Ryan is. And let’s be honest—it’s
wherever my stuff is too. 

Server: Sir, would you like the meat or vegetable platter?
Me: I'll take the vegetable platter please.
Me: Mmmm, these are tasty vegetables. Wait a minute ... that's not a vegetable.

Russian Lesson Learned: Shrimp are vegetables.

United has a direct flight from Dulles to Domodedovo. It's 10 hours which is about 3 hours beyond my tolerance for sitting in economy. I had frequent flyer miles to burn so I upgraded to business class for a mere 10,000 miles. The Supershuttle picked me up at 1:30pm for my 5pm flight. Even though my organization will pay for a taxi, I always take the Supershuttle because I never know what kind of adventure it will take me on. The last Supershuttle driver got lost in Alexandria and refused to listen to the directions of the (increasingly annoyed) Alexandria native in the backseat. What should have been a 30 minute trip turned into about 1hr15min. This trip to Dulles was uneventful. There were only 2 passengers and I was the second picked up, so it was a straight shot from my hotel to the airport. Check-in had its typical problems. The check-in kiosk wasn't printing tickets and wouldn't recognize I had 2 bags. Fairly tame I guess as far a check-in problems. It took a few minutes to sort all that out and I was finally on my way to the Red Carpet Club (an additional perk of a business class ticket). Since I had about 2 hours to kill before boarding I took at seat in the Club, grabbed a free beer and watched the World Cup Germany v Spain game.

The business class section of the flight was only about 25% full. The seat next to me was free – which was convenient as my entertainment system was not working. On-demand movies is the main perk of business class so this would have been a disaster had I not been able to switch seats. My last international flight was in economy and I was stuck watching Twilight. The acting was so bad I was nearly read to slit my wrists by the end of it. This flight would have no such issues. I sat down, told the flight attendant to keep the drinks coming, and prepared for 10 hours of boring. I managed to get in Date Night and Invictus before grabbing a nap. My wife will take about ¼ pill of Uni-som sometimes to help her sleep. I took 2 pills around the end of Invictus and, as far as I can tell, had no effect on me.

Upon arrival and Domodedovo I quickly passed through the passport control and met my sponsor on the other side. He took me back to our apartment building, gave me the keys and a quick tour of the building. He left me to my own devices for the afternoon and made plans to meet up again for dinner.

My image of Russian apartments is the stereotypical concrete communist apartment block. In fact, most housing in Moscow is like this. Our building, however, is new construction and breaks the mold. It's only a few years old and has a modern exterior. It is a 2 bedroom, 2 bath on the 8^th floor. It probably has about 1400 sq ft. of living space. The kitchen/dining/living room is an open layout. The master bedroom is enormous. The queen-size bed takes up only a small part of the room. There is a large built-in wardrobe and I moved in a portable IKEA wardrobe from the second bedroom. I figure I can take the IKEA wardrobe and a couple drawers in the dresser and Katie can use everything else. For the first time in a long time I have a washer and dryer in the apartment, although the washer is in the second bathroom and the dryer is in the kitchen. A little odd, but I can't complain too much. The master bath has a tub while the second has a shower. Both have heated towel racks and floors. The kitchen also has a heated floor which can be turned on or off. There is a built-in air conditioner in the living room and a roll-around a/c in the master bedroom. The apartment also has an enclosed porch which seems to be most useful as a sunroom or storage. The apartment came furnished with dressers, tables, sofa, etc. The second bedroom is configured as an office with a bookshelf and desk. The apartment has hardwood floors throughout (except the heated tile in the kitchen and bathrooms). The east and south side of the apartment has large windows. The middle window opens on each section, but there aren't any screens. The view out either side isn't terribly interesting – basically lots of concrete apartment blocks. The apartment comes with basic cable TV (about 12 working stations and another 10 or so where the sound and/or screen is screwed up). All the foreign stations (e.g. BBC) don't work but the Russian stations come in fine.

After unpacking my belongings I took a walk around the area to survey my new home. There are a couple small grocery stores within a 5 minute walk – one of them is open 24 hours. I'm not sure why I would need to go to the grocery store at 3am, but I I do there are options. Of course the ubiquitous McDonald's is only a couple blocks away. There is also a Sbarro nearby. I haven't checked to see if either has free wifi, but that would probably be the only reason to go. There is a big statue of Lenin only a block from our apartment. The apartment is conveniently located between two metro stops – about a 5 minute walk to either one (Oktabrskaya and Dobryninskaya). Both stops are on the circle line which means I can easily get pretty much anywhere in Moscow as the circle line crosses all other lines. All the major train stations (to cities outside Moscow) are on the circle line. The subway system in Moscow is huge but incredibly efficient. Trains come every 90 seconds. There is no “time until next train” like in DC, only a “time since last train” and I have yet to wait more than a couple minutes.

On Saturday I walked around the center of the city. I started at Red Square, walked down to Christ the Saviour church then up to Old Arbat – a pedestrian street about ½ mile long. If you want to buy souvenirs – Old Arbat is the place to do it. There are a large number of shops selling all kinds of crap (my term, not theirs). It was a hot day – probably close to 90 degrees. I was hoping to escape the heat of DC, but apparently it followed me to Moscow. Red Square was quite crowded. After a few hours of walking around I decided I had had enough of the heat. I came back to my apartment and took a nap. After my nap and a delicious dinner of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, I sat down to watch the Uruguay v Germany game – in Russian. The game started at 10:30pm local time and the sun was just going down. It's an odd experience to wake up with the sun up and go to bed with the sun still up.

Sunday I slept until about noon then was ready to get back out and explore my new city. I found that a good way to meet new people was to join the local Hash House Harriers running club. For those who don't know, the Hash House Harriers are a drinking club with a running problem. In Moscow they meet every Sunday at 2pm then head out to the run site via the metro. I show up at 2pm and who did I see but one of the guys I ran with in Bulgaria! It had been 4 years but we both recognized each other. The expat world is pretty small. The Hash in Moscow is pretty diverse – there are Americans, Serbians, Russians, Canadians, Brits and the Swede I knew from Bulgaria. The run was through Victory Park – a famous Moscow park memorializing World War 2 (or the Great Patriotic War). Another good reason to run with the Hash is that you get to see different parts of the city. This Hash, which is typical of others I've been on, was about 15% pre-run socializing, 35% running, and 50% drinking and socializing after the run. It was about 6pm before the Hash ended. I made plans with some of the Hashers to meet up at a local bar to watch the World Cup final later that night. We met up at an outdoor bar called “Art Garbage” (yes, I also think that is an odd name for a bar). Anyway, we got there early to grab a seat. Unfortunately the game went long and I had to leave before it ended because the Metro closes at 1am. The last thing I wanted to do is get stuck in the center of Moscow when I barely knew how to get around the city. By the time I got home the game has already ended. Oh well.