Today, more than other since I arrived here, I need to flush my brains. So these are simply thoughts that I need to get out of my brain so I can be ready to encounter more crap in this city.
JET LAG
Today, at about 1:30 PM, the weather looked great from my bedroom window ... blue skies, sun and, I am sure, quite pleasant to be out. But I went to bed because my body dictated that I should. Jet lag has finally caught up with me in a bid way. So, I gave in and left at about 6:15 PM in search of Pushinskaya.
I suppose it makes sense to mention that this morning I took a walk to search for the Intourist office. I think I will make my life simple and go to my notes which I made this morning. It is now 9:16 PM. So, go to the notes:
NOTES
I have only been in Moscow 2-1/2 days and have already made myself quite disagreeable several times.
First of all, the majority of Muscovites that I have had the displeasure to deal with, doubly frustrate me. At the Alfa hotel yesterday, the clerk first told me she didn't know what the rates were; then she pointed to the rates above my head, so I went to another line. The clerk quoted me the l0west rate, 2,500 rubles. While I waited the first clerk called me. She wrote down all four rates. When I asked for the lowest, she told me there were no rooms available and that I should try Gamma Delta next door.
Yesterday, I went to the receptionist in my hotel to see if I could borrow a transformer. She wanted to know what floor I was on and what was my room number, just so she could tell me there was nothing that could be done.
This morning, quite desperate, I went to a store on Red Square named Gum. (Pronounced not like gum in chewing gum, but the short vowel in 'look'. So, it is pronounced Goom, with that short vowel. How could I visit Pushkin without my camera. I bought a charger for my batteries and it set me back $30.50.
My philosophy is that if I screw up, I shuld pay the price. Let me count the ways:
- I neglected to buy a set of universal plugs when I saw them at the Apple store in Soho, New York City.
- I neglected to buy a 240V to 120V transformer.
- I neglected to buy extra batteries.
I could have bought all of these for less than $30.50.
I returned to room 5252, a stone's throw from the river, and, just my luck, the outlets were the standard that you would find in most countries, the one you are defintely using in the US and Brasil, if I recall, but not in Peru. So, with dread, I went down to reception. Two young women told me there was absolutely nothing that could be done. A few minutes later, another woman entered behind the desk, and kindly plugged in the charger in an outlet. (Three hours later, it was still charging my four Ni-MH batteries. Thankfully, four batteries had come with the charger so I slipped them into my camera and left. I told the woman who helped me that in three days, she was the most pleasant Muscovite I had met.
Of course, it is my responsibility to know their language, but language is only a part of it. If I leave Russia without being sent to the Gulag, I will count it a victory. I need to chill, to take things easy, and not tell babuskas what to do with themselves, at least not at the top of my lungs in a crowded subway. But I simply don't know how to maintain my cool when people dismiss me with that sharp wave of the hand. She shouted back at me at the top of her lungs and I have no idea what she desired me to do -- go to someplace quite hot, or do something to myself.
These Muscovites, with three exceptions, are like the Russian winter that I encountered in St. Petersburg in 1995. Today, in the metro, a woman stopped, fetched her glasses, to tell me which direction I should go to get to the "Ring train", that's the No. 5 which goes in a circle, which gives the other nine trains an opportunity to intersect twice, since they all pass through the circle twice.
I rode this train because it seems that the most incredibly-decorated stations are on this line, at Dobryninskaya, for example. I stood the whole way so that I could see when the train stopped at each station. A man and his wife entered the train and she rushed to get a seat and save one for him but another man sat and left no space for him. Still, he offered me the seat that was not there to be taken. I indicated in sign language, even though he understood some English, that I was standing to get a better view. He asked me where I was going and I told him Krasnopresnenskaya, where I would get the No. 7 one stop to Piushinskaya. He got off at Belorusskaya and told me the next station was mine.
Before I took the ring train, I took several photos of the statue of Pushkin and before that, I took one of my favorite Russian writer, Anton Chekov. I even made a correct guess this morning that it was Chekov, but it wasn't a tough one, being familiar with his features. But he was younger than I am accustomed to seeing him and as thin as a rail. If I recall, he was a doctor as well, and consumptive. But don't quote me on the consumptive part.
When I returned to the Pushinskaya train, I tried desperately to figure out for myself how to get to the street rather than ask another Russian which way was up. I went this way and that and, finally saw a policeman, then confirmed with another policeman.
It's time to do a little surfing to see what up with the news.
Bye.
PBB
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