I Just Discovered One of the Worst Ways to Wake Up. Ever.

Last night I was kind of having a hard time nodding off, but finally, finally, I started to doze. I was just in that place between asleep and awake, nuzzled in that nook in the guy's chest that girls love so much...I can practically count down to a nice, needed sleep...gently drifting off...feeling lighter... letting go....5...4...3...2...

WHAP!

Somehow, in his unconsciousness, The Limey manages, half-closed fist, to box me in the ear. He's got more than a little experience in boxing and martial arts, so asleep or not...
A one in a million shot. And he was absolutely horrified when I told him.

I had to tell him, because I woke him up laughing so hard.

He insists that he was probably having dreams of Eurovision Weekend.

What is Eurovision you ask?

Why it is the single greatest, gayest, glitteriest, campiest spectacle held this side of the Atlantic. And I got a crash-course this weekend, since it was held in Moscow this year.

My recap isn't done yet, but I'll post it when it is.

In the meantime, here's a taste of what you can expect to hear about:



On an unrelated note: Doesn't Liberace suddeny remind you of the Marlboro Man?

This Tour of my Apartment Guest-Blogged by The Count

Velcome Cheeldren!

Apartments for rent in Moscow are usually furnished.

This means that every lucky renter automatically gets dishes, a television from the eighties, a single bed, and at least one--ONE!--gigantic wall unit capable of hiding an entire family of smuggled immigrants.

But Kira and Larissa also got a few extras! And what fun extras they are!

Count with me now!

ONE! ONE TEAPOT! AH-HA-HA!

NOW...

TEN! TEN TEAPOTS! AH-HA-HA!!!

They also have three water pitchers and seven wall units.

But they had to buy their own butter knives.

**This post has been brought to you by the letter "L", the number "10", my landlord Nikolai, and the good people at Pepski-Cola!

Because Things Always Make This Much Sense in Russia

Using free internet in a restaurant.

I ordered a beer, then tacked on a pack of smokes, which they brought with a lighter which I did not ask for. Then I get the bill.

The total is 320 roubles.

The number on the top is 200 ru for the beer.

The zero rouble charge? Why the cigarettes are free!

But the 120? That's for the lighter.

To clarify, I just bought a 5$ lighter. But the (2$) smokes were completely complimentary!

I think I just got had, but am too pumped about the free smokes to care.

Consumer Psychology: Letting People Screw You Since 1955.

Worth the Price of Admission

Last Sunday I was playing football (soccer) in the park with some Expat friends. Okay, no, they were playing and I was barefoot because my heels would have sunk into the grass. But I digress.

We get to the end of the afternoon and are drinking beer on the grass, when we are approached by militsiya. In Russian, they tell us that it is illegal to drink beer on the grass where we are (elsewhere on the grass, yes, just not here.) We're 99.9% sure it is not. But in proper expat fashion, we all "don't speak Russian." (Even though we all pretty much do.) But they tell us we are in trouble in Russian, and we tell them we don't understand in English.

And so there we are in what basically amounts to a game of linguistic chicken. Because we can't challenge their authority without admitting we speak Russian, and they know that they have no authority to speak of in this situation. It's a catch 22. All they are lloking for is a small bribe, and in order to give it to them and walk away happily, all we have to do is turn over next to nothing in cash (because even though we may not have been doing anything illegal, they could always SAY we were doing something else...)

This would be upsetting if it weren't so funny. At one point, one of the cops (after making the intenational finger-and-thumb rubbing sign for "bribe") had the balls to use his limited English and say "Hah. Russia police!" and laugh. And believe me, we were all laughing.

The Cop: "Beer! So--" (makes the money-motion)

Me: (with feigned innocence)"What are you saying? You'd like us to buy you a beer?"

OR

The Cop: You drinked beer!

My Limey: Yes

(Edwina the Aussie slaps him on the arm)

My Limey: I mean, No.

OR

Mya: "These beers? They aren't ours-- these are rubbish. We were just cleaning up after other people who were drinking beer, that's all."

Imagine much of this going back and forth, and you can see how the situation was funny.

In the end, their patience with the back-and-forth outlasted ours, and we did end up paying them.

Total cost to bribe two militsiya and make them lay off five foreigners?

300 rubles.

12 lousy bucks.

The best part is, they didn't want to take any of our small bills. Because that would have been tacky, right?

Worth every penny for a good twenty minutes of entertainment that you can only find in Moscow.

IT'S A WAR!

Nah, not really. Tomorrow is "Victory Over Europe Day" in Russia. It commemerates the day that Germany surrendered*. Tomorrow there will be a parade etc all on theme, and the tanks have been practicing all week, running up and down Tverskaya, one of the busiest streets in Moscow.

You think that's weird? Yesterday, at midnight, we saw two random dudes in motorcycle jackets go past the window of our restaurant on horses.

Thanks to Ed for the sweet pics.

*In WWII. Since Germany was quite the stone-cold bastard for the first half of the 20th century, that may not have been clear.

Katie, You're Gonna Hate This

It is a carbonated beverage that tastes like барбарис, apparently called "barberries" in English, which I think are native only to this region. Barerries are naturally sour, but not in pop form. In pop form?

It tastes like Red Vines*. Aw yeah.

*I know I'm the only person who likes those. No need to point it out.

UPDATE: We Have a Contest Winner!

I received the following message from my lovely friend Julie W with regards to this post:

FYI the spanish men probably read "Terror in Winnipeg" by Eric Wilson
(who wrote "Murder on the Canadian" which ironically was about a canadaian boy and a japanaese girl who was facinated with canada due to a book she read"Anne of Green Gables") Useless facts Julie, Useless facts.I could be wrong but i swear its the only middle school book that would loosely translate into 'panic
in winnipeg'.i want my beets, caviar, and dolls ASAP!!!xxxooo

CONGRATULATIONS JULIE! You do indeed get your prize. And congratulations Portage: you get to bring it home for her on the plane in June!

Everyone's a winner.

But mostly Julie.

Quote of the Day

"It's a problem dating a foreign man--you can't Google him."

---Anonymous Expat Friend

We tried to Google him. Everything was in Russian.

Guess we could've seen that coming.

The Visitor's Guide to Moscow

A few friends have contacted me looking to visit Moscow. Portage is coming for White Nights in St Petersburg and a brief stay at the luxurious Dom Kiraskaya y Larissaskaya. Two others are up in the air.

And while I can honestly say that this is a great city, I can't help but think that there are a few tips I should pass along to anyone thinking of coming out here.

And so I present to you:

LARISSA'S VISITOR WARNINGS FOR MOSCOW

1) You need an "invitation" to visit me. Basically, the government wants to know that, should you turn out to be a terrorist, they can blame me later.

2) Squat over all toilets. Just trust me.

3) We may not have water when you come. The odds are good that we will, but... well...there is this possibility (see #4).

4) Mind the babushkas. They may look like cute little old ladies, but they know how to use their elbows. And they will yell at you (last week I got yelled by one of them, insisting that I was "harming my woman parts" by sitting on a cement staircase outdoors)

5) Waiters consider you lucky to be at one of their tables. You are bothering salespeople with your questions. And did you SERIOUSLY just ask a metro employee for information about the metro? You are so needy...

6) You can only buy food at food stores. You can only buy clothes at clothing stores. DVD kiosks for DVDs. Meat at deli counter. Pharmaceuticals from a pharmacist.
Alcohol? Anywhere.
No, really, anywhere.

7) Quit smiling at people you haven't been properly introduced to. You're freaking people out, dude.

8) The cashier always tears your receipt halfway accross the centre. I've been here seven months-- I still don't know why.

9) You can know the name of a street by reading the sign that tells you it can be found one hundred metres away. Sh*t outta luck if you are any closer than that. Be prepared to ask many people how to get to the street you are already on.

10) Non smoking? hahahahhahahha.... You are so cute, Westerner...


There are more. But these stand out right now. I'll let you know if we think of more.
But Kira, the kittens and I can't wait for our houseguests!

I'm Sure it was Just my Phone Card

Yesterday i was chatting on the phone with my mum. Somehow, the topic of conversation came round to the Cold War (yes, topics of conversation in my family are normally this erratic and at least this political.)
My mother says something about Cuba.

"That's funny," I say. "I always associate the Cold war with Russia. With Kruschev."

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Then nothing. My mum was gone.

Then a Russian recording saying, I think, something along the lines of the fact that my phone card had no funds left.

But maybe, just maybe, someone was monitoring and didn't like what I had to say?

Do you guys think that the government could possibly be--

!!!ВНИМАНИЕ!!!

!!!жаль, связь закончилась. Войдите в контакт с властями для информации. Но не спрашивайте вопросы!!!

A Contest for Spanish Speakers!

Last Sunday was basically a throwaway for me, because of my Saturday night.

Kira and I attended a party that lasted until 4:30 am, at which time everybody decided to go to a club. Really, the decision to go was less due to my party-girl nature and more based on practicality: if I stayed out until 6 am, the metro would be running again and I wouldn't have to pay for a cab. The Moscow Metro inexplicably ends service at 1am, thereby resulting in most people going to the club for 11 or midnight and staying out until service resumes at 5:30 am. I, of course, have no problem with this.

Excessive partying is just good financial sense.

Anyhow, the party consisted of basically fifteen Spanish men, Kira, myself, and one other Russian girl. Ladies out there, I ask you: who could have a complaint? Who would go home before 6am?

"Where are you from in Canada?" they'd ask, and I'd prepare myself for inevitable disappointment. I've been asked this question dozens of times, and rarely get a response that doesn't involve a totally blank look.
"Winnipeg" I answered each time. And each time, I would get an enthused response.
"Ah! Winnipeg! I know that place!"
"You do?!" This time, the blank shock was mine.

Apparently, a lot of kids in Spain had to read some book in school, the title of which they all translate as something along the lines of Panic in Winnipeg. I mean, they all grew up going to different schools in different parts of Spain, and they all remember the book.

I tried to find it online, but no dice.

A prize of beets, caviar, and matryoshka dolls to the first person who finds it...

PLEASE Visit This Link

Moscow Stray Dogs Evolve to Suit Urban Life

I know I'm just linking you a lot today, but this is way too good to pass up.

And I HAVE seen these dogs on the metro several times, and they really did always get off in the centre of the city, almost as though they understood the anouncer. Maybe they did.

A great read.

It is my Duty to Pass This On

Got it here. And it's a story worth passing on.

Apparently a Russian man had a fir tree growing in his lungs. Doctors perfored surgery to remove a tumor and found a fir tree growing inside the tumour. I decided not to post it, but the photo of the actual icky, christmassy mess is in the link, if you want to see it.

And you thought smoking was dangerous.

Try living in a coniferous forest region.

And it Wasn't Annoying at All

So today I'm on the street near Novokuznetskaya, on the way to school, and I notice some Militsiya eyeballing a car.

Obviously the owner of said car was someone they wanted to talk to. Not sure why. Parking violation? Nah, unheard of in Moscow, expecially on a street where no fewer than three cars were parked on the sidewalk and one made use of a half-space by parking sideways with his front end pulled onto the sidewalk.
So no, that couldn't have been it.

Anyway, they decide to find the owner of the car using the following method: giving his tire a good, solid kick to trigger the car alarm, and waiting for him to come out of whatever building he was in.

I don't know how it worked out.

I'm assuming super well and friendly-like.

Just for kicks, the image is from http://englishrussia.com/ a great site with actual pics from around Russia.

This pic... I don't really bat an eyelash, anymore.

So Kira Has a Cough

So do I. I chalked it up to allergies and whatnot, but Kira cancels a class and gets the following message from a student:

"It is very bad, Kira. Now in Moscow epidemic of cough. Buy in
drugstore of a kidney of a pine, boil milk 200 ml, then add on the table spoon,
wait for 50min and drink three times a day. Very much helps."

That is some witchy shit, right there.

And a fifty ruble prize to anyone who explains what "kidney of pine" is.
If we figure it out, I'll let you know how it tastes and what it does.

My money is on superpowers, natch.

Sentence of the Week

"I think my fascination with moss goes back to when I was a child..."

---Anonymous Friend

Maybe you have to be as tired and punchy as we were when we heard this, but Kira and I were literally breathless from laughing as soon as it was said. Yep--I know and love someone who used this sentence without irony.

Why was I so exhausted? I'll tell you tomorrow, when my computer isn't about to die...

RUSSIA MULLETWATCH 2009: UPDATED

Despite serious monitoring of the situation (ie Kira and I watching in horror) the problem only seems to be on the rise.

While the Mulletwatch Team does not recommend staying indoors, we do recommend that you acknowledge the situation and take precations to avoid coming directly into contact with it.

The beast is best viewed for the purposes of education in its natural habitat. We recommend vintage NHL trading cards and episodes of Degrassi, both Junior High, and High versions (now available on DVD at your nearest quality retailer).

The Mulletwatch Team also reccomends keeping an electric raztor near the entrance of your home, in the case that a Mullet should try to enter.

We will keep you updated, and keep track of any progression the Mullet might make accross the pond.

Good Night.

And God Speed.

UPDATE:

Due to requests (hey Stef!) The Mulletwatch Team has accumulated pics, courtesy of diznila (since I'm lazy and my camera is meh):

I Can Stay in the Country!

I'm not going too much into detail, but just know that thanks to some favour somewhere, I managed to get a visa without leaving the country, or even missing a single day's work.


I know it sounds dodgy, but believe me, the details are also incredibly sexy and filled with adventure. I mean boring. Yeah. Not interesting at all, and it never involved a car chase, several wig changes, the seduction of a high-up government official whose name rhymes with "shootin," and a series of clues each one more mysterious than the last. Yeah, no, it's all boring paperwork red tape stuff.

Yeah.

And so I am once again safely nestled in Russia, with paperwork valid for at least one year.

And with that out of the way, I promise to write more. Well, once I'm done with this treasure map.

Now a skull and crossbones is code for "good", right?

The Russians Make Us Look Like Assholes

I open my Moscow News to the news that Russia is banning baby seal hunts. In two paragraphs learned both that Vladimir Putin believes “It’s a bloody industry and…should have been banned long ago”, and that Canada is home to the world’s largest annual commercial seal hunt.

So... Canada is doing something that Vladimir Putin thinks is irrationally violent.

Hm.

And I'd like to mention that I for one am completely for the clubbing of baby seals. But only because a gang of baby seals killed my father. They got it coming.

Though in the name of political correctness, I’m not using a club. I've got a tube sock filled nickels.

You can't change nickels at the money-exchange..

I Guess He's Here in Case of Wednesday Noon Hour Fights

There is a security guard who has been hovering about 5m in front of me for half an hour now. He has not, however, deinged to do a thing about the dude in army fatigues who has been sleeping 1.5m to my left for the last forty-five minutes:

But I should mention I've been using the internet for an hour here, and haven't bought a thing.

People sitting at glass tables should not throw McNuggets. No judgement.