Dear Readers,
Another full week has passed by. I still have not fallen in love with Moscow yet. Truthfully, I think that ship has sailed, because if Moscow could not ensnare with her charms in the summertime, there is truly no hope that I will fall in love with this place in the winter. Even the natives don't like the winter. They respect it, I mean it has won at least two wars for them, but they don't really like it. It is cold, dark, long and brutal, sort of like life here, except life just feels long. OK I have lined up some rants -- observations, really -- about my newly adopted city
Spitting
Everybody everywhere spits. It is horrible, disgusting and omnipresent, sort of like sour cream, which I will get to in a minute. If CSI came here to solve a case, that would have to arrest 10,000 people on the DNA evidence alone. I don't even try to avoid stepping in it anymore, I just try not to think about and do everything in my power, never, ever to fall down to the ground. I will take the legs out from under a babyshka (old grandmother) before I let my hands or face touch the ground here. I am still trying to determine some casuality for all of this spitting. Are Russians genetic saliva overproducers? Is the pollution, what? I mean there has to be a reason, for the sheer pervasiveness of this nastiness. I will keep searching.
People Watching
Moscow is one of the best cities in the world for people-watching. My friend B. said not only can you people watch, but you can pick a topic -- man-purses, shoes, hair etc. However, there is a caveat, making direct eye contact in public is a social no-no in Russia. Russians take direct eye contact, at best, to be rude, at worst to be an outright threat. Smiling, that peculiar American response to everything, makes the eye contact faux-pas even worse. At that point, the will think you are danger and a blithering idiot (or you want to get married). Maybe these two are adonakovi (the very same). A quick note about man-purses. The male American fellows refuse to carry them, but time is a patient hunter. What is a man purse you ask? It a purse carried by men. In all fairness, the government pratically forces men to carry man-purses, because you must in addition to money and subway pass, carry at all times your passport. Since passports (internal and external) are far to big to be placed into a wallet, men are left with a dilemma, where to stash their stuff. Some men have opted for the man purse. I have seen beautiful, study black leather Kenneth Cole man-purses that look oh so suave and I have seen some kind of wrist strap having, 8th-grade girl type of man-purse that looked oh so silly. I would have said gay, but gay people have better taste that that catastrophe. The carrying norm is a strap across the body with the purse laying on the hip. Straps straight down from the shoulder sends a message that sounds a lot like "dork" because "dorak" in Russian means idiot, or dummy.
And I need not revisit the wrist strap issue.
The Russian Belt
As I people watch in the metro, I have come to a startling conclusion. Somewhere in this vast country there are thousands, no hundreds of thousands, no possibly millions of 8 year old girls that are running around stark naked, no shirts , no pants. Why you ask, because every woman in Russian over the age of say 14 wears all of her clothes about 4-8sizes to small, no matter what size or age she is. This leads to the naked 8 year olds. I am afraid that my 7-year old daughter will get jumped here, not because of the color of her skin, but for her CareBears rainbow T-shirt.
This obsession with overly small clothes also creates what I call the Russian belt. Because their shirts are so small (even in the arms length and size) and their pants are so tight, a 2-4 inch band of skin at the waistline is exposed for all to see. This is the Russian belt. Almost all the women wear it every day. I don't have proper statistics, but if you spit on the ground in front of the metro 50 belt wearers would step in it, before it dried.
I will post some more pix tomorrow for those interested in the high-brow cultural side, and there is one, of my adventure here. As always, keep the comments coming. Thanks for reading.
Another full week has passed by. I still have not fallen in love with Moscow yet. Truthfully, I think that ship has sailed, because if Moscow could not ensnare with her charms in the summertime, there is truly no hope that I will fall in love with this place in the winter. Even the natives don't like the winter. They respect it, I mean it has won at least two wars for them, but they don't really like it. It is cold, dark, long and brutal, sort of like life here, except life just feels long. OK I have lined up some rants -- observations, really -- about my newly adopted city
Spitting
Everybody everywhere spits. It is horrible, disgusting and omnipresent, sort of like sour cream, which I will get to in a minute. If CSI came here to solve a case, that would have to arrest 10,000 people on the DNA evidence alone. I don't even try to avoid stepping in it anymore, I just try not to think about and do everything in my power, never, ever to fall down to the ground. I will take the legs out from under a babyshka (old grandmother) before I let my hands or face touch the ground here. I am still trying to determine some casuality for all of this spitting. Are Russians genetic saliva overproducers? Is the pollution, what? I mean there has to be a reason, for the sheer pervasiveness of this nastiness. I will keep searching.
Russian Food -- Smetana and Zelen (Dill, Parsley, etc)
Since I have been here, I have lost 10lbs -- about 4.5 kilos. The weight loss can be equally attributed to 1) the walking, the damn walking. 2) " Moscow's Revenge" 3) the food itself.
Russian food is effective in curing hunger, but it is not particularly tasty food. It tends to be a bit bland and very fatty. Sour cream and mayonnaise are like culinary superstars, add dill and parlsey and green onions and you've got the starting 5 of the Russian national team. I keep threatening to write a science-"fact"ion story about what happens to Russian society when all the dill just disappears one day. I think they seriously would invade India (one of the largest producers of dill) if this actually happened.
Moscow is one of the best cities in the world for people-watching. My friend B. said not only can you people watch, but you can pick a topic -- man-purses, shoes, hair etc. However, there is a caveat, making direct eye contact in public is a social no-no in Russia. Russians take direct eye contact, at best, to be rude, at worst to be an outright threat. Smiling, that peculiar American response to everything, makes the eye contact faux-pas even worse. At that point, the will think you are danger and a blithering idiot (or you want to get married). Maybe these two are adonakovi (the very same). A quick note about man-purses. The male American fellows refuse to carry them, but time is a patient hunter. What is a man purse you ask? It a purse carried by men. In all fairness, the government pratically forces men to carry man-purses, because you must in addition to money and subway pass, carry at all times your passport. Since passports (internal and external) are far to big to be placed into a wallet, men are left with a dilemma, where to stash their stuff. Some men have opted for the man purse. I have seen beautiful, study black leather Kenneth Cole man-purses that look oh so suave and I have seen some kind of wrist strap having, 8th-grade girl type of man-purse that looked oh so silly. I would have said gay, but gay people have better taste that that catastrophe. The carrying norm is a strap across the body with the purse laying on the hip. Straps straight down from the shoulder sends a message that sounds a lot like "dork" because "dorak" in Russian means idiot, or dummy.
And I need not revisit the wrist strap issue.
The Russian Belt
As I people watch in the metro, I have come to a startling conclusion. Somewhere in this vast country there are thousands, no hundreds of thousands, no possibly millions of 8 year old girls that are running around stark naked, no shirts , no pants. Why you ask, because every woman in Russian over the age of say 14 wears all of her clothes about 4-8sizes to small, no matter what size or age she is. This leads to the naked 8 year olds. I am afraid that my 7-year old daughter will get jumped here, not because of the color of her skin, but for her CareBears rainbow T-shirt.
This obsession with overly small clothes also creates what I call the Russian belt. Because their shirts are so small (even in the arms length and size) and their pants are so tight, a 2-4 inch band of skin at the waistline is exposed for all to see. This is the Russian belt. Almost all the women wear it every day. I don't have proper statistics, but if you spit on the ground in front of the metro 50 belt wearers would step in it, before it dried.
I will post some more pix tomorrow for those interested in the high-brow cultural side, and there is one, of my adventure here. As always, keep the comments coming. Thanks for reading.
posted by S | 11:27 AM
2 Comments:
Sheree -
This is the funniest observance you have written yet. The spitting is crazy. Is it men and women? Unbelievable and disgusting.
As for the Russian belt maybe we should start a clothing drive for clothes that are larger. Maybe if the clothes were free they would wear them. Also, as far a fashion education goes, the bare midriff was out last summer.
Shurokha, You are absolutely hilarious!! I almost feel selfish reading your blogs, laughing hysterically, and not having a whole lot to say in return. I'm very happy you've met new friends, friendly strangers and cool bartenders. There's nothing like having a place outside of home to call home (and to eat good food!). Keep the pictures and stories coming. Know that folks back home (even random acquaintances like me) are reading and thinking about you.
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