Tehran 1943: The Rostov Youth Who Saved the Big Three

On this date in 1943, Joseph Stalin, Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt came together at the Tehran Conference to plan strategy in the war against Nazi Germany. Hitler had learned about their plans for a secret meeting and plotted to have them killed or kidnapped. His efforts were thwarted thanks in part to Gevork Vartanyan, a Russian lad born here in Rostov-on-Don, who moved to Iran with his parents.

Just happen to have a photo of The Big Three taken two years after Tehran, during their Yalta Conference in 1945. This, their final meeting together, was at Livadia Palace, the Crimean Republic of Ukraine.

Okay, back to Tehran in 1943. . .

Russia Today (RT) interviewed our hero, Gevork Vartanyan, the legendary spy, now retired. History buffs will enjoy this interview in English. He's quite loyal and diplomatic too as shown when the interviewer asked for his candid opinion about Stalin and his leadership in the war.

This interview is in Russian and conducted at a Moscow university. Here Vartanyan is shown together with his wife. As I understand it, Vartanyan says 75% of his intelligence efforts were thanks to his wife.

Russian Teens Baffled by Communist Holiday

Back in the days when the Communist Party ran things around here, November 7th was the Day of the Revolution, a major holiday. Today the party faithful still parade through town, their ranks a only remnant of earlier strength. But to the teenagers I ran on a recent afternoon, November 7th was just another day. In fact, they were clueless that it had ever been a holiday. Here's how that went.

Sure, you can take my picture, I said. Just make sure I'm the youngest, thinnest and the most beautiful one in the photo. (Whahah!)

Well, they did try. ;)

I'd been downtown an hour or so already, perusing souvenirs from sidewalk vendors in Gorky Park and hoping to target some Communists. With my camera, of course. November 7th is their big day so they were making their presence known. They were celebrating the October Revolution, when Communist forces lead by Vladimir Lenin took over the Russian government. That was shortly after Czar Nicholas II was booted out of office and summarily executed.

Well, November 7th no longer a public holiday and the Communist Party has faded considerably. But to the die-hard party loyalists, the day remains sacred. Earlier that morning, en route to church, we had spotted a few dozen celebrants gathered near the Stella statue, waving their red flags with gold hammers and sickles. Their usual routine is to march through the city on Pyshkinskaya Boulevard making considerable racket with bullhorns and a brass band and then gather at the statue of Lenin.

Later that afternoon, I managed to catch several stragglers who were lingering after the festivities. I was still watching for Communists and sure enough, there at the Lenin statue was a faithful komrad, pleased to salute for a photo.

The placard says something about 93 years since the revolution. And that is of such significance to the three-plus generations of Russian folk who lived under Communism.

See the teens on the street would have been born after the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, after Russia opened up in the early 1990's and after the USSR dissolved soon thereafter. They don't remember life before McDonald's. Their parents and grandparents would remember the fanfare of November 7th, of course, up through the 1980's. Girls would remember getting new dresses for the parade and the masses were released from school and work to celebrate in the city streets.

So then, I wanted to know what these youth were thinking. And they wanted to take my picture so we got to chatting.

Me: Is today an important holiday to you?

Them: Today is a holiday? (giggle, giggle) What holiday is it? Maybe Men's Day?

Noooo, Men's Day is in February.

Is it Russian Independence Day?

Nooo, Independence Day is in June. . .

See the man over there at Lenin's Statue? The guy with the red flag? Today's the day of the October Revolution, when Communism came into power.

Ohhh. . . (giggle, giggle)

So that was the end of that. And then it was on to questions about the America, the usual questions. Another topic entirely. . .

Oh, you need to meet Komrad So-and-so. We met earlier in the park when I was looking for souvenirs. Seems that he's a local officer of The Party.

He was chatting with the coin and pin vendor there at Gorky Park, near the statue of Lenin.

He was kind enough to let me circle around as to get a better shot at him. I didn't mention that I'd been hoping to photograph folks of his ilk. . .

The statue to Lenin. It's amazing how many Lenin statues are still standing throughout Russia and Ukraine. Probably interesting to know how many have been pulled down, too.

Of Billboards, Elephants and Snickers

Advertising is so interesting. Especially when it's about eating. Especially when it's about eating nutrient-loaded candy bars.

So what's with this Snickers? Let's zoom on in a wee bit closer. Say, can you smell that yet? As for me, my nose is still processing the men's after-shave that just wafted past. . .



Have you ever eaten an elephant?

Snickers Super: The Very Biggest in History.

No connection ~ either implied or inferred (whatever that means) ~ between plowing through Snickers Supers and turning into an elephant.

Schwarzenegger Charms Moscow

In recent days, California Governor Arnold Schwartzenegger made good on a promise to visit Russia. The video shows him braving the Moscow metro, a feat which earned him major bonus points with locals.

What a charming conversationalist. The governor tells about being inspired as a child by a Russian weightlifter, noting the athlete's name in perfect Russian.

Back in Rostov, Lots to Celebrate

Switched into gypsy mode on a recent Wednesday morning and headed Dallas to Atlanta and then on to Moscow. Caught an overnight train Moscow to Rostov-on-Don, arriving that Friday afternoon just in time for the Day of the City, Rostov's birthday. Oh, and here are some sights from along the way, especially for you. . .

But first, Happy Birthday Rostov! The city celebrated its 261st birthday that weekend, September 17-18. The bank building above overlooks Theatre Square and often sports the biggest poster in town, 14-some stories high.

Oh, but hold on, hold on. . . let's rewind a bit.

First in Atlanta, encouragement to the troops who pass through that airport. Ah yes, would that every soldier who returns would come home to big hugs and yellow ribbon.

Then there's AT&T who offers the Best coverage worldwide. Say, these teapots are worth a closer look. . .

How clever is that! But pity the hand model. Imagine, going through life with such stubby fingers.

Or. . . not.


I hiked from Terminal A to E versus catching the train and finally, here's it is: the escalator up to heaven. . . or maybe up to the departure level. There's a food court up there. And a bookstore. And an interfaith chapel. I ended up visiting two out of three of those spots. . . Not saying which ones. ;)

Two hours before flight time, there's my Delta 46 getting prepped to head east across the big pond. Watching this plane being fueled and fed, I had no clue as to the surprise awaiting me. . .

But first, time to fill, pandas to shoot. Clever, those nifty little leaves in there. Wonder if these pandas are related to that of Eats, Shoots and Leaves fame?

Back to the gate, waiting with 206 of my closest friends for our 4:15 departure for Moscow. I asked the gate agent for a seat, preferably an aisle seat, preferably row F. He worked on that for several minutes which was kind of him, considering the queue.

Later on the plane, I headed through first class back to steerage and couldn't find my seat, 3F, in coach. That's because ~ and this was an absolute surprise to me ~ the gate agent had upgraded me to first class. I was positively euphoric for hours, probably the least sophisticated passenger in first class - it was old hat to everybody else.

I was so overcome that I didn't manage to photograph a single thing. Not even the fine dining with the cloth tablecloths and tray covers. Not even the fully-reclining seats with 75 or so controls and the big fluffy pillows and cottony comforters. And I certainly didn't get a shot of my traveling companion, the guy between me and the window who was in zombie mode the entire trip. You'll forgive me for that, won't you please? Who knows, maybe ~ just maybe ~ someday I'll have a second chance. ;)

Anyway, after 10-ish hours aloft, we landed at Moscow's Sheremetevo Airport, northwest of that city of 13 million people, last I heard. Next, I needed to get from Moscow to Rostov-on-Don. Not the first time I've done that, for sure. But this time. . .

I decided to try something new for Moscow to Rostov-on-Don leg, 650-miles south. Instead of taking Aeroflot and forking over thousands of rubles for my last minute ticket, for my excess baggage, I took the train. It's a time versus money trade-off. I enjoyed having nearly 24 hours to sleep and read, not to mention saving buckets full of rubles. Aeroflot, my condolences. . . I had this whole wagon nearly to myself. I'm not quite understanding why, especially because they said the 3rd class wagons were packed. Oh well, as for this nice, quiet wagon, I'll take it!

Met this cheery four-some at a stop along the way. Asked the fellow in black where he found his t-shirt (click photo to enlarge). In Holland, he said, and his companions burst into laughter. They had been drinking their way south, I rather suspect.

On the road again. Somehow now my wagon is at the end of the train. Glad somebody else is keeping track of adding and subtracting train cars. Guess it's included in the ticket price.

Heading into southwestern Russia and the distant mounds are signs of coal mining.




Another train station, the shashlik lady. Reckon these two are kin? Chicken shashlik, sounded so good and looked so good that I bought it. It was way too expensive, of course, but the chicken was tasty, what there was of it. Still, they gave me this nice photo.

Then there was the potato lady who scrubbed, peeled and packaged this herself. Later, the guys squatting in the background decided to be friendly, shouting out Hello America, or some such.




Back on the train, the attendant lady ~ I like to call the attendants stewardesses and that makes them laugh ~ brought me this pod-sta-KAN-chik with hot tea. Reminiscent of the era of the Russian czars, nowadays, on long-distance trains, hot drinks are served in these. Podstakanchik means literally, under-the-glass-thingy. Works for me.


Welcome to home to Rostov-on-Don!

Friend Misha is so good about meeting me at the Rostov train station. Here he's bumping down the steps with my biggest bag. Why are we heading down this stairway when we're within two feet of an escalator?


Here's why. . .

Some things tend to be more decorative than functional, such as this escalator. Actually, seems I do recall a time or two when the escalator was working. So come on komrads, let's buck up and head on down. . .

Happy Birthday, dear Rostov. . .

As mentioned earlier, Rostov was in a celebratory mood when I arrived back. Had nothing to do with me, I eventually realized, but rather with the Day of the City, the 261st birthday of our wonderful Rostov-on-Don. I love the philosophy here, that if something's worth doing, it's worth doing on a large scale. There's exhibit #1.

A wider view of the Stella Bank building, set in Theater Square, Rostov-on-Don. Oh, is it ever wonderful to be back in my favorite adopted city. Thank you, dear blog readers for joining me in this journey spanning 9 time zones and thousands of miles.

Credit to whom it's due:

Each time I pass through Passport Kontrol in Moscow, am admitted into Russia and end up here in Rostov-on-Don, I'm mindful of the doors that opened for this to happen. This time, thanks goes to my new best friend, Desiree of FedEx. On the Tuesday before I was scheduled to depart on Wednesday, she delivered my passport and new visa into Russia. Without that visa, there's no even getting on the plane. So thank you FedEx and Desiree!

Seriously, I'm so grateful for the opportunity to live and serve here in Rostov-on-Don. Each time the door opens, I'm thankful for an answer to many prayers.