Be Game: Dine at the Wild Animal

Next time you're in St Petersburg and you're antsy for some untamed cuisine, head on over to the Wild Animal Restaurant. The eatery's ad, above, in a visitors map of the city boasts *Nature in all kinds of cooking.* Best of all, as per the Wild Animal itself, they also feature *Eatable prices.* That's definitely worth a try: When the waitress -- okay, the server -- delivers the check, politely request it a la mode. And hope she speaks a bit of French.

Midnight Adventures at Moscow's Sheremetevo-1 Airport

Well, there’s an outlet in the women’s toilet. You can work in there.

Somehow I managed not to bray in response. I was at Sheremetevo-1 (share-ye-MYET-ye-vo), one of Moscow’s domestic airports last Sunday evening and was prepping to spend the night there. Now, if only I had some power, I could work, write and be entertained on my laptop. But the battery was down to 39% and prospects electrical were looking slim.

This wasn’t my first all-nighter at Sheremetevo-1. Last time it was accidental. That was in 2004 or so. . .and that night the food service manager let me set up camp in his restaurant, giving me all-night access to an outlet and table. The night flew by – kinda, sorta – and come morning and departure time I presented Mr. Nice Manager a decent souvenir from Athens. It was well worth it.




But management has changed in the interim and Sunday evening, I learned that Mr. Nice Manager has been replaced by Mr. Hard Line and he wasn’t sympathetic. Imagine setting up a laptop in the restroom. True, outlets are there, but picture a laptop on a wet countertop between sinks or dealing with the aroma let alone the scenery. In short, I had ambiance issues.

What to do. . . what to do. . .what to do? Back when planning these flights three weeks earlier I deliberately timed the overnight layover in Moscow en route from St Petersburg to Rostov-on-Don, figuring that I would catch a cab ($50) to the area’s least expensive hotel ($150) for a quick night’s sleep. That could have worked. But. . . but what I didn’t expect was that my weekend in St Petersburg, which followed a weeklong conference at nearby Peterhof, would run $200 for lodging. Too bad, so sad that my visions of staying in a dorm or with friends didn’t materialize. Alas, the gap between planning, expectations and. . . reality. But God was good and provided and protected and my weekend was extraordinary. Still it came with a price tag and I had grown quite weary of forking over rubles here, there and everywhere.



So Sunday evening at Sheremetevo-1, I decided to take control of the situation (If only!), bite the bullet and pull an all-nighter at the airport like a true Russian. This is one more thing to love about these folks. They’re so hardy and adaptable and willing to be uncomfortable without complaint. Admittedly, some folks down considerable amounts of hard liquor to get there, but that's another story.

Back to the quest for power. Two airport employees were especially helpful, a rare commodity here in the Land of Customer (dis)Service. Granted, it was after midnight and action was slow. But the 20-something police officer working the security scanner at the main entrance was quite helpful. For a minute there he considered unplugging his big x-ray machine and plugging it into my extension cord to share electricity. But we ended up vetoing that one.

Hands down, the Customer Service Award goes to the Information Booth lady. Not only did she smile, a novel concept in a land where smiles are carefully rationed, but she had a spare outlet inside her hut-of-a-booth. She couldn’t allow me inside to use it, unfortunately, but she did suggest that I hand over the laptop to recharge for an hour or two. Oh, did I have misgivings about that.

This laptop is my baby, I told her. No, actually it’s my brain.

She nodded. She’s probably a mother too.

May I ask your name?

It was Vera. Good enough. Vera means faith and I would have faith in Vera.

Two hours later I came back, laptop was 99% charged and good for a couple hours of Super Word Games. Viva Vera!


(Caption: I'm in this photo - can you spot me?)

You know, of course, that the secret to working all night is to set mini-goals. My first goal: stay awake until midnight, easy enough since my flight landed at 10:30 p.m. Next, stay busy until 3:00 a.m. And until then 6:00 and then around 8:00 when it’s time to head toward that 9:30 flight. Being armed with mini-goals and more bottles of Diet Coke than I care to admit, made all the difference. That and the occasional stroll the length of the waiting area.

I found a place to set up camp, in the café area with tables and chairs, no power though, and it cleared out eventually except for a truck driver named Eugene who drives to France regularly and who claimed that he had been up for three days. This Eugene, or Zhenya for short, and I decided to team up and provide security for each other. Like when he wanted to go outside and smoke I would watch his table. And when I needed to go for a stroll, he would watch my luggage, cross-stitch, books, Diet Coke and my beloved Paper-Mate mechanical pencils, all spread across the table as Americans are inclined to do.

What a photo op, strolling through the waiting area, past all the people catching a snooze after the blasted intercom music was finally turned off around 2:00. I was plotting how I might get away with photographing that scene. Best of all was a dignified middle-aged woman in a pink tweed suit who was reclining quite carefully across three seats so as not to muss her suit. She was sleeping with her pumps on and her ankles crossed. Now that’s a lady for you. Fortunately I didn’t have my camera with me because she stirred as I walked by, opened her eyes and would have caught me in the act.

Actually, I was uncomfortable with taking people’s photos that night. There weren’t that many people around and it would have been too obvious. But Zhenya was fine with it. No problem, he said! And he got away with it so the attached photos are thanks to him.

Throughout the night, Mr. Hard Line, the food service manager managed to become more pleasant. Drinking Diet Coke as I was, about every hour I needed more ice. That meant a trip to the bar and once it was Mr. Hard Line who served me. Not that he was softening on his power stance, mind you, but he was fine with the ice. I didn’t mention to him that if he had been like Mr. Nice Guy, I would have given him a souvenir of St Petersburg.

But who knows, maybe next time I overnight at Sheremetevo-1, there will be yet another food service manager and it might not matter if he gives me power or not. Maybe by then Shere-1 will have an internet cafe as does Vnykova -- pronounced VNOOK-ov-a – another of Moscow’s regional airports. It never hurts to dream about progress. Either that or I might have to amend the ladies' room sign to Women's Toilet and Computer Cafe.

Saturday at The Hermitage, St Petersburg

A free day in St Petersburg means a visit to The Hermitage. That magnificent palace turned-art-gallery is a national treasure and is likely the city's premier tourist attraction. This was not my first visit to The Hermitage. I had come with the Pan European Lecture tour in July of 2002 for a taste of the highlights. But after five hours there last Saturday, all I can say is *What luxury! What opulence! What history!*




Even a palace needs to be spiffied up from time to time. Above, a worker vacuums the grand staircase under the watchful eye of some Greek goddess. Most of us passersby stood and stared at this sight, struck by the irony of a noisy vacuum on the white marble stairsway. As this fellow worked his way down the steps, more photos where taken of him than of the gilding and architectural detail that surrounded him. Not that he was particularly pleased about that.



Outside on the street, an early evening view from Hermitage toward Palace Square and the Tower of Alexander.

Of Kings and Queens, Pawns and Lacquer-ware

Checkmate! SHAKH-mat-ee, the Russian word for chess, is a cognate of the English checkmate and last Monday strolling through Gorky Park, I happened upon some SHAKH-mat-ee action. It’s not uncommon to see chess in the park but this was the first time I’ve seen women playing. It was a mild September afternoon and the players were so absorbed in strategy, they were oblivious to being photographed.

Russians have been playing chess for more than 1,000 years and today consider chess an official sport and include match results in television sports coverage. Grooming starts young for those with potential. Vasgen is a sharp kid 10-year-old in our children’s Bible classes and today I asked him about his chess classes. He noted that his classes included five and six years olds and that once he was beaten by a four year old. He has since switched to judo.

Russia has produced legendary players including Garry Kasparov, world champion of chess in 1985 at age 22. He has retired from competition but uses his notoriety to help push Russia toward democracy, he says. And nowadays when headlines scream his name it’s about his sharp criticism of the Kremlin. Kasparov has written a book *Life Imitates Chess.* I would have suggested he consider writing *Chess Imitates Politics* or vise versa. Certainly the political scene is ripe with moves and countermoves. And occasionally we’re reminded rather graphically that some of the key movers aren’t just playing. Checkmate!






A stone’s throw away from the kings, queens and pawns, a souvenir vendor had her khokhloma wares – pronounced hok-lom-A – on display as she does every day, regardless of the weather. Good thing it’s all waterproof, heat-proof and impervious to the elements. Khokhloma is easy to recognize with its red and gold paintings of flowers, leaves and berries on a black background.

Khokhloma is a 300-year-old style of woodworking that developed in the forests along the Volga. Producing a piece is a multi-step process which takes up to three years. Logs are dried for two years, turned on lathes in a workroom where, according to proprietary legend, there are still lathes used by Peter the Great. After more drying, comes hand-painting which can take weeks.

Like everything else, khokhloma has gotten more expensive and so it has been a while since I’ve stocked up on it as a souvenir to take home. A small spoon might run 20 rubles that’s about 80 cents. A little box would probably be 250 rubles or $10. But maybe I should reconsider stocking up on khokhloma spoons. Now that I think about it, they have been a hit with kids back home.

I’m reminded of a young girl in Montpelier, Vermont who just loved the spoon I happened to give her, not sure the occasion. I met her at church summer of 1998 when I was there enrolled in Russian language school. The girl’s mother told me later how much she enjoyed the spoon and insisted on eating her oatmeal with it each morning and then washing it in the dishwasher. Maybe I should reconsider those spoons. As colorful as khokhloma is, I find it a bit garish for the typical home. Perfect for Christmas though, isn’t it? And for kids too. Guess I might start a stash of khokhoma spoons and small items.

* * *
Sources:
(Teach Yourself) Russian Language, Life & Culture. (2002). Stephen and Tatyana Webber. By McGraw Hill./ Golden Khokhloma, website./ NPR website./ TimesOnLine (UK)./ Book worth checking into: Secrets of the Russian Chess Masters: http://www.amazon.ca/01-Secrets-Russian-Chess-Masters/dp/0393324524

The Light's Off. . . but Everybody's Home

Attention engineers and inventors: We need a way to stockpile electricity for home use. We already squirrel away canisters of water for those hours or days when there’s no water, a regular occurrence around here. But when the electricity is off, a flashlight helps out although most folks have candles handy.

As I write this, we’ve got 2 hours until lights go off at 5:00 p.m. At least today I’ll not be surprised when everything goes dark.

But Sunday morning when I was in the midst of my getting-ready-for-church beauty-wanna-be regime, when my curling iron and I had almost persuaded my hair to curl, that’s when the big, fancy refrigerator six inches from my elbow shuddered, sighed and went silent. Not everybody does her hair next to a refrigerator, of course, but here where my living room is an extension of the kitchen – so the refrig is there– and my hallway is an extension of the bathroom – so the mirror is there near the outlet, that’s the set-up.

So with the curling iron cooling, by the time I had checked my electrical breaker box, it was on to Plan B for the hair. Knowing that if my electricity were out, the other 35 apartments in this stairwell were probably also in the dark. I figured that someone would have it all worked out by afternoon when I would be back from church. But alas and alack. Hours later when I unlocked the door, I was greeted by pitch black silence. No low hum of refrig. The place was quiet. Quieter than. . .than an early autumn breeze wafting ‘cross the steppe.

Russian folk express being without electricity as being without lights or bez svyeta. Svyet being light and the –a ending for genitive case because, according to the rules of Russian grammar, that which one lacks, she lacks in the genitive case. So here it was, a balmy autumn afternoon perfect for productivity and creativity and I was stuck in the genitive case.


* * * * *


After a nap, I went down to check with Galina on 1st floor. Those first floor folk are often good sources information. Sure enough, Galina had the scoop.

Maybe this evening we’ll have lights. But maybe not until day after tomorrow.

Oh nooo!

I was envisioning my stash of sweet peppers and pelmeni thawing and spoiling. I asked how she had all this information and I didn’t.

I read the notice posted by the door.

Oh. Ohhh! I get it – functional literacy! So I hurried outside to check the spot and sure enough – a notice was posted. (Note to self: Watch for notices, particularly those where either light or water is in the genitive.)

Around 5:00, I curled up in an armchair and read by a west window. I stewed about my stuff in the freezer: red and yellow peppers, packages of veggies, pelmeni, plum puree. . . I was thinking about calling a taxi to haul me and the semi-frozen stuff to the church building where there’s a freezer. Decisions, decisions.

Then I became very decisive when the vision of a Ritter Sport bar with almonds flashed through my mind. Heading downstairs toward the corner store, I passed two electricians working in the stairwell. Actually, one was working by the light of a cell phone held by his co-worker.

I have a flashlight if you’d like to use it.

Nyet, nyet, we’re fine, said Mr PhoneHolder.

Soon it was 8:00, past dusk and two more hours until bedtime. Didn’t Abraham Lincoln read at night by the light of . . . something?

Still considering my options: I wanted to work on my computer. I could take the laptop and walk 10 minutes to a café. But it's not a internet cafe, certainly not computer friendly. And besides, it would be noisy, smoky and uncomfortable. Or I could walk 25 minutes to the church building or pay like 100 rubles for a cab. . .but at 8:00 pm?

Mulling , mulling, mulling it over. . . what to do, what to do, pros and cons and not knowing if lights would come later in the evening or later in the week. What? What was that sound? I heard a low hum. Then I was heard the printer clank on in the next room. Oh yeah – those electricians came through and we had s-v-y-e-t!

Well, we had same dilemma the next day at 5:00 pm for three hours. And the following day as well. And they say we’re not outa the woods yet with repairs to the electricity.

So I was thinking that it comes down to two things, maybe three: decisions about food that could spoil. And decisions about having enough light for reading. And it would be nice to have the computer working during that time. So, there you have it, you inventors out there. What can you come up with for the rest of us?

Just to aid in your initial research: A quick Google search shows Online Consumer Reports with info about generators – looks as though a person could easily spend $2,000. Let me be more specific about the project: What could a person get for, say, for $100? That is, other than several very nice flashlights and lots of batteries?