Ode to Stardogs

I'm not really a fan of hot dogs.  I know you're kind of supposed to say that if you want people to think you generally value your health, but I really don't eat them often.

But here in Moscow, I've fallen in love with Stardogs.  I'm pretty sure it's only because of the fact that I can just get them on the side of the road while I'm rushing around the city, and the allure of the city-life aspect of it all, but I love them.  They HAVE to be pretty bad for you-- and what's worse-- I always get the one wrapped in freakin' bacon.  BACON!

 Just imagine this bad boy with bacon all around it.

But sadly, over the past two weeks, all sorts of kiosks lining the sidewalks and streets have been taken down.  Moscow's new mayor Sergei Sobyanin decided that over 500 kiosks all around the city should be taken down.  Although his attempts may seem noble--his main concern is cleaning up the city and reducing traffic--they really get in the way of my (admittedly infrequent) eating habits.  While I don't eat these often enough for it to put a dent in my waistband, there are several stands that have provided the very sustenance needed to get me on to my next errand.  The one nearest my metro stop?  Gone.  The one nearest a school I teach?  Gone.

 Of course this is saddening on other levels.  While ultimately mayor Sobyanin's decision is only removing 15% of total kiosks (and not only Stardog kiosks, we're talking flower shops, Shorma shops, produce stands, and so on), it is affecting numerous migrant workers.  According to the article, 7,000 people are out of a job because of the decision and they were given almost no notice.  Beth and I do not live close enough firsthand, but we have heard friends talk about the speed and severity that these stands were taken out during the middle of the night.  They were literally torn apart where they stood.  I'm sure this didn't happen to all of them, but still.

I don't know enough to make judgements on what was right or wrong to do, or what should happen.  But my gut's telling me something's just not right.

To Izhevsk

Beth and I were able to take a trip last week to Izhevsk to visit friends.  As I've posted before, Izhevsk is about a 16 hour train ride east of Moscow-- but a one and a half hour flight.  We felt that it would be a good idea also to try out flying with Liam when the flight time was pretty minimal, and he did very well.  We found cheap one-way tickets and flew to a city about 3 hours away from Izhevsk, where our friends the Friersons and Wilhelms graciously met us.

Liam is so excited to see his Aunt D!

I couldn't pick a favorite, honestly.

Little pepper jack o'lanterns for our Halloween party.

Visiting Izhevsk gave us a glimpse of life in Russia that is not very noticeable or even apparent at times in Moscow.  It also gave us such an appreciation for our friends who live there.  While we were on cloud nine the entire time we visited, Izhevsk is probably like any other city in the sense that if you're not there long enough you don't notice the blemishes.  We were there a week, so every experience was something new and exciting.  I'm sure our friends love the city-- but we did not experience any of the difficulties that come with living in a secluded and limited city that they probably see often.  We are so thankful for our friends.  They've endured hardships I'll never even think about.  It gives me perspective when I get stressed over situations here in Moscow.

One of the most insane mullets I've ever witnessed.

Our boy band album cover.

On Friday, we traveled outside of Izhevsk to a village where we met with several friends and shared a meal and devotional together.  Definitely one of the highlights of our trip.

On our return home, we took the train with Ross and Ricky.  Unfortunately we had waited to long to purchase a platskart ticket with them, so we were in kupe with Andre (middle-aged large man) and Olya (older but incredibly kind woman).  The train is always exciting and fun to take, but I am absolutely certain I can say that only because we don't use it often.  Things are definitely a little more nerve-wracking with Liam.  Most of our evening and night was spent walking him up and down the hallway of our wagon.  Olya really took to Liam, and talked to him nearly the entire time she was awake.  Right when she first walked into our room and waved goodbye to her friends out the window, she told us, "Give him to me," and proceeded to wave Liam in front of the window to her friends. 

Without a doubt, from the beginning to the very end this trip was quite an adventure.  Beth and I are more than grateful that we were able to spend a week with some very special people.

Take You to the Barbershop

Getting a haircut is, oddly enough, one of the scariest things I do here in Moscow.  I haven't gotten it quite figured out, but it just is.  I just get nervous every time I force myself to get one.  Really, really nervous.

But for the most part things are really great.  The particular place I go (in the basement of an apartment building) only charges 150 rubles (about 4-5 bucks), and things are always moving quickly.   You wait in line outside the room (if there ever is a line--it's only happened once for me) and when there's a free barber you nod and shake his hand.

With absolute certainty I know that one of the reasons I'm nervous is just the language.  I actually have most of the words down that I need for getting a haircut, but I think I'm just scared that I could say something wrong that would make my request the opposite of what I would like (for instance, instead of saying "I just want a little cut all around," I'm worried I might ask for everything to be cut except for a little).  It's really silly, it's just hair, but I just get nervous.  I also think that has to do with the innate desire of being understood.  Or at least that's my excuse.

I also think I'm nervous because of the first time I had ever gone.  My Russian was atrocious, and I just felt like I was being made fun of the entire time (which I probably wasn't).  But when you can't really understand you have this strange feeling that everything is about you.  That group over there is saying something about how silly you look, or that security guard is laughing at you, and so on.  In reality none of that is true, but during those months where I understood practically nothing, I (selfishly and rather narcissistic-ally) assumed it was all about me.

Anyways, so the first time I just felt like a fool.  And I knew the price for a haircut was 150 rubles, but in some strange attempt at congeniality, I asked how much the price was.  The man looked at me and up at my hair and said, "For *your* hair....... 200 rubles."  I just handed him the bills and walked away, defeated and with no recourse.  No snappy thing to say.

And ever since then I've been nervous I'll have a similar experience.  The only thing is I never do.  Every other person who I've sat with to let slice and dice at my hair has been beyond kind, and I've been able to share about myself and ask about them.  They've only charged the correct amount, and they usually comment on the amount of hair that has ended up on the floor.

I'm sorry-- after reading over this post again, I just feel so ridiculous.  I get stressed out about some of the dumbest things.  Please know that if you are thinking about how silly I am while reading this, I agree with you completely.

Anyone Listening?

Living in Moscow for over a year and a half, we've gotten used to the idea that most people around us don't understand us.  We absolutely don't accept this as a universal rule and are pretty careful, but we're not as concerned as we probably would be in the States.

This past weekend Beth and I were meeting someone for lunch and sightseeing.  Because Liam was up most of the night before, we were running on very little sleep, and had no time to grab breakfast before the meeting.  So naturally we were more argumentative (honestly, I get upset when my anger is blamed on "being hungry" for being too simplistic.  But it's usually always true.  Am I that predictable??).  It all led to the silent treatment as we took the metro to meet our friend.

There we found a seat next to a pleasant-looking girl and waited.  It took a couple minutes, but we began talking.  We apologized to each other, but also explained what got us so irritated in the first place (I will always defy the fact that it's just mere hunger).  We were going on and on in a "This is what you said and this is how it made me feel" therapy session/venting for about 5 minutes or so until the girl beside us turns around and says "Excuse me, where are you from?"

She spoke English. 

For a split second Beth and I froze.  This girl, right beside us, speaks English.  And she probably heard everything we were talking about.

Fortunately for us, she acted like she didn't.  It turns out she (her name is Anna) is a Muscovite and visited Los Angeles and New York during the summer.  She studies English in the Moscow State University of Linguistics.  We had a good conversation and actually exchanged contact information. 

All I know is that now I'm cursed to be extra doting to Beth whenever Anna's around.

It Was Just a Routine Traffic Stop in Russia

Until.....

(wait for it)

Our (very brief) Autumn

This year we have really tried to treasure the Fall season.

In Moscow, it doesn't last very long.  A month.  If that.

This past weekend we grabbed our friend Andrea and hurried to the center of Moscow as fast as we could.  We made it in time to get some pictures at a nearby garden and Red Square.

It's already begun snowing in Moscow (although only in brief moments, here and there and then gone), and the temperature has been hovering in the 30s and 40s.  There are many things I'm going to miss about the Summer (other than the insane heat and smoke).   I'm going to miss the walks through overcrowded parks, with nearly every Muscovite trying to take advantage of the incredible weather.  I'm going to miss the produce stands on every street corner and in every neighborhood (I think for the entire Summer our dessert was simply strawberries and vanilla ice cream). 

Not to sound pathetic, but I'm going to miss the sun.  I'm going to miss the get-togethers that involve simply walking around the city for hours. 

While I am actually looking forward to snow and Winter, there is nothing like a Summer in Moscow.

Learning How to Make Borsch

On Saturday, Beth and I were picked up by our friends Andrew and Ira, and taken to Andrew's childhood home to meet his mother.  There his mother taught us how to make delicious Russian food.

Andrew drove us outside of Moscow to his hometown of 60,000 residents.  It was close to Moscow, but just far enough away that everything felt so much more calm and peaceful.  When we arrived, we only expected Andrew's mother to teach us how to make borsch-- but she had prepared an entire feast!

Olivie Salad (Mayo, carrots, peas, ham, boiled eggs, cucumbers, etc.)

Fish and beet salad

All of the food was incredible, and we look forward to making some of these dishes soon.