Russian Brides Series

Wedding season is here, the perfect time to honor Russian brides. I know what you’re thinking. The internet. Russia’s infamous buy-a-bride services. But I’m talking about real ones. The lovely ladies of Russia who get married right here. In Moscow and across Russia, it is very popular for brides, grooms and their friends to drive around town in limos or stretch Humvees to take photos. Lots of photos. This goes on in America too, of course. But Russian bridal parties have an obsession with wedding photography. They approach this ritual with a level of passion and determination unseen anywhere else in the world. Perhaps it’s that most Russian women like having themselves photographed anytime – posing like models in parks or in front of major landmarks – so they must take it up a notch at wedding time. Especially on weekends this time of year, bridal parties are running around the city, and running into each other. You can find them fighting it out for time in front of St. Basils Cathedral, or The Church of Spilled Blood in St. Petersburg. A trip down to Red Square in the summer can be like watching a wedding reality show on television. Sometimes wedding couples are fighting. Sometimes everyone is happy. Sometimes everyone is just drunk. It’s very entertaining. In addition to the zeal with which Russian girls approach this event, I think what truly puts these brides in a league of their own are the dresses. I have never seen so many layers of shiny fabric. Lace, beads, short skirts, long skirts, occasionally experimenting with colors that are not white. I think you have to see it to believe it so I am posting my collection of the Russian brides I’ve caught on camera so far. I hope many of my friends in Russia will see these pics and send me their photos too. I will post them as I receive them. The photos range from the lovely to the unbelievable.
 You decide your favorite.

This is just an everyday example of photo posing that we encounter at malls, historic landmarks, the supermarket....no wedding need be involved. Photo credit: Kristen

The boots are my favorite detail.

The man sash is my favorite detail

The champagne bottle is my favorite detail. This bride was the gift that kept giving. Please note the bride lined up for her turn on the bridge.

Pretty

Very pretty

Very shiny

I zoomed here so you could get a better look at the shine.

Layers and lace

She has inspired many of those pretty cake toppers

Wondering why I am the only one taking her picture...

The splash of blue was nice on a cloudy day and complimented this mermaid look.

You don't need a limo when you can do this to your car

Car topper

But these folks got a serious limo

These two are my favorite-wait for the close up.....

Unbelievable. This photo and the two before are credited to my friend Kristen-well done!

The Fourth of July Expat Style

Many of our friends and family have asked what we could possibly do to celebrate America’s Independence Day – in Russia. You would be surprised…Of course everyone had to work like any normal day. All the petitioning of the Kremlin could not get expats a little July 4th leniency. And yet, the holiday did fall on a Monday this year. If being foreigners celebrating a foreign holiday in a foreign land is traditionally frustrating – we had a three-day weekend this year to compensate. In retrospect, we may have over-compensated.

Saturday was the American Women’s Club picnic. Think softball games, barbecue, potato salad, watermelon and (bad Russian) beer. It honestly felt like, somehow, we recreated a little of home in a Russian park.

 On the actual 4th, the day started with a reception at the American Ambassador’s house. It was not a small, intimate event but a party of at least a few hundred people. I have never been to a July 4th event in the States that was quite so elaborate. There was a band, flown in from North Carolina just for 24 hours -- your US tax dollars at work. The entertainers sang country music and if I closed my eyes long enough I might have thought I was home in Ohio. But all I needed to do after that was open up and get a look of the Russian appetizers: little shrimps perched on a dollop of sour cream and a dash of mint balanced on a mini toast. Way more like wedding reception cocktail hour than backyard barbeque. Not a cob of corn to be found. Then again, give some credit where credit is due. Lynchburg lemonades were available at the Jack Daniels sponsored bar. And I did nibble on red, white and blue sugar cookies that were scattered on the snack tables. The explanation for the non-American food might have been the fact that there weren’t very many Americans at the event. The guests represented every corner of the globe. There were military uniforms from around the world. The brass and medals were on display and quite impressive. My favorite outfit had to be the guy who looked Russian, and was with a Russian girl, but happened to be dressed like the Dalai Lama. We pondered his clothing choice for a while but came up empty-handed. There were African diplomats in colorful formal wear, an array of Russians with bad dye jobs and uncomfortable shoes and a bunch of American Embassy staff who looked miserable. I assume this was because their bosses were hovering, likely making the Jack Daniels bar off limits to them. After speeches and a little mingling we decided it was time to go….to Chilis. Yes, they just opened a brand new one in the center of the city and we felt it appropriate to go -- only because it was the 4th. After imbibing on the best margaritas in town (really they are the best I've had) we headed for a final stop at an American diner called Frendy’s. They serve American beer and Corona. The wings have real buffalo sauce on them and are actually spicy (Russians don’t like spice normally). After nachos, fried cheese, wings and burgers we rolled home around midnight. This is the overcompensation I was talking about. We paid for it with stomach aches but it was worth it…for one day of the year. We missed you America but tried to make you proud from here.

When It Rains In Moscow.....

When it rains in Moscow you really don’t want to be outside. You might think it’s unpleasant to be outside anywhere in the rain. Moscow is different. Give some of the world’s pushiest and rudest people free use of a weapon – an umbrella – and it’s war. One day recently, we were out of groceries and I had to go to the store. Exhausted from traveling, I lost track of time. It was 5pm. Rush hour. You never walk the streets at rush hour. Not ever. Certainly not when Russians are wielding umbrellas. I entered a sea of colored umbrellas. All I saw was red. Potholes had already filled with water, so ladies in their stiletto heels were trying to sidestep the ponds, not caring who they had to push out of their way. Drunk men crashed their big boots directly into the puddles, splashing everyone around them. There were motor bikes. And children. And Russian babushkas blocking the sidewalks with their vegetable kiosks. And everyone… every last Russian… was navigating all this chaos with an umbrella in hand. I had to keep my eyes on each passer-by, so as not to find the corner of a pointy umbrella in my eye. It was war. The normally 20 minute walk became 35 as I fought through the crowds, dodging water-resistant weapons while trying not to step in every puddle. All this, while carrying my bags of provisions. The groceries were hopefully enough to sustain us until the rain was over, as I decided not to leave the house again. I felt like a wife on the prairie, provisioning for the hard winter, hunting and gathering against the forces of nature to feed my family. These are the things you think about when you’re walking home in the rain in Moscow. I made it back home and decided to stay in and tell you where we’ve been these last few months. It is safer inside. And now I’ll explain why there haven’t been any blog posts.

We have been lucky to travel almost constantly these last few months-it has been wonderful. Here are the highlights and a few photos.

London – February was mild there, no snow! We spent time with good friends and even got to Scotland which I count as a country but is technically part of the United Kingdom. (I’m always sad when I don’t get a new passport stamp.)

Portugal – We spent a week travelling the country with friends from New York. We went from Lisbon to Porto and a couple of small towns along the way. We tasted Port along the riverfront and ate al fresco in February.

Venice for Carnival – a great pre-Lent celebration! Not as crazy as New Orleans but full of food and music. Got lost repeatedly and took the water taxis all the wrong ways.

Quick stops in Slovenia, Paris and a romantic run to Casablanca to meet David while he spent over a month in North Africa covering the Arab Spring. With a quick stop in Brussels (think beer and chocolate) on the way home!

We had many wonderful visitors this spring and we travelled with many of them to St. Petersburg, Tallinn, Estonia, and Helsinki. I went alone to Oslo, and met a wonderful friend I had met in Italy 5 years ago. Then I found a $200 ticket to America by way of Copenhagen – one night there was better than none.

We got to return to London for the Royal Wedding! I wore a hat, drank lots of tea and shopped! Then we went straight from London to Kazakhstan – a normal travel route of course.

We made a last minute trip to Israel where we visited our good friend Alex who had just moved there and saw the Greene family at the same time-they were there for a conference. Tel Aviv was a blast and Jerusalem was fascinating.

Finally, we did Croatia for a week, with a one-night layover in Freising, Germany.

I am finishing this post en route to America on a United flight to DC for a very quick visit with family. We are fortunate. It was all amazing. But I might be a little tired now…..



Big Ben



Visiting old friends in Scotland

Portugal. Amazing.

Viva Carnival in Venice!



Casablanca



Cousins visit and tour St. Pete

Afternoon in Tallinn



Brave Ohioans visit when winter is still going strong



The Royal Wedding

Oslo



Helsinki



Estonia



Kazakhstan



Jerusalem

Israeli Food

The Western Wall



The music of Croatia



Vladimir

Since arriving in Moscow, Russians have always told us, “Moscow is not Russia and Russia is not Moscow”. They mean of course that this is one huge country with a lot of different people and cultures mixed up inside. In not so many words they are telling me to go out and see it all before coming to any conclusions. Fair enough. So I have been making a concentrated effort to see more of Russia this year. Last year I vowed not to travel in Russia during winter but this year I’m changing my ways and accepting that most of the year is winter. If you don’t travel when it’s cold, when will you?

During the last week in January David and I travelled to Astrakhan, Russia. It’s a city in Southern Russia near the Caspian Sea. The town sits on the Volga River and for years its economy has relied on the fishing industry for its existence. It is where the majority of Russia's caviar comes from. At one time Astrakhan had been a wealthy city but like many other Russian port towns it has fallen on hard times.  I was really excited about driving out to the sea because the Caspian has always intrigued me for some reason. I have included it as one of the places on earth I need to visit. It has always sounded very exotic to me. Maybe that's where the curiosity comes from or maybe because it shares its shores with some of the most interesting places -- Iran, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan. Whatever the reason David decided to indulge me and we asked the hotel to find us a driver. We have had very little success renting cars in the past and in such a remote part of the country it just makes sense to hire somehow who knows the area. And that is how we found Vladimir.

Vladimir is a grandfatherly type. It turns out in fact that he has some children and a few grandchildren. Sadly two of his sons are in jail. By the look of Vladimir’s tattoos I would make a bet that our sweet driver had done a little time himself. But he was taking his job of tour guide very seriously. At first he was quite confused by our request to see the surrounding countryside and maybe some small villages. “You want to see nature? Maybe you come back in summer”, he said to us.  After some explanation (and after consulting the only touristy brochure that seemed to exist in Astrakhan) we settled on a drive and a price. Our journey did in fact take us to some little villages and dear Vladimir tried to get me to the Caspian. But we found out that without Russian citizenship and special passes we were not getting to the sea. The Russians actually have a military barricade on the road to the Caspian. I assume it has something to do with the “interesting” places I mentioned that all have borders on the sea. My hopes were dashed and Vladimir felt badly but I gave up when we came too close to the Kalashnikovs. We did find the most amazing irony in the local Lenin statue (photo below). A fading and crumbling past, glorified in the center of town. The statue in itself made the drive worthwhile. But we also stumbled across a charming part of the country, in spite of the poverty we saw. We visited with ice fishermen and sat waiting for random cows to cross the road. We visited an age-old fish market where we were offered a wide array of fresh and dried fish. The entire day Vladimir went out of his way to try and indulge the whimsical Americans and he did a great job. Even if he didn’t fully understand my excitement over exploring the rural Caspian delta, I’m glad we did it. This was a good start on my journey to discover the Russia outside of Moscow.

Vladimir with a serious fisherman

Vladimir

Good old Lenin

Fish Market

Selling sturgeon at the market

Belarus: Worst Toilet Paper in the World

I cannot express how sincere I am when I tell you: Belarus is the most bizarre place I’ve ever been. I know there’s a big world out there. I have much more to see. But this place is unreal.

If Disney wanted to create a new Epcot attraction – the “Soviet Pavilion” -- they would have the perfect model here.

So much of Belarus seems frozen in a Soviet past. The needless bureaucracy. The layers of rules. The control of society. Right next door, Russia may be trying to move on. No such attempt to be found in this small country.

 Belarus was my first dictatorship. I don’t think I really understood what that meant until my visit. In the course of a week, I was followed by the KGB, met members of an “underground theater group” and watched a peaceful protest turn bloody when the government stepped in to stop it. I came into Belarus by way of Brest, a small city just a couple of miles from the Polish border. It may as well be a million miles away. Travelling to Belarus requires a visa – a complicated one -- for Americans (and lots of other people). But journalists like David have to send all kinds of letters to government offices saying that they’re coming. We found out quickly that announcing ourselves helped the government assign KGB thugs to follow us around.  At first we thought we must be mistaken. But no, men in black went with us to coffee shops, stared at us while we bought toothpaste at the pharmacy and were even kind enough to take the elevator with us at the hotel. Straight out of a spy movie. (A comedy, perhaps, since some of their antics were pretty bumbling).

I had decided to join David on this work trip because I figured, when else would I ever go to this country? And while I’m telling you all of the bad things, I have to stop and make sure to mention that the Belarusans are lovely people. They never litter. The cities are immaculate. Motorists stop for pedestrians. What else could one want? Oh, freedom maybe. The election night protest you might have heard about in the news was inspiring -- before being torn apart. It is obvious that at least some of the population wants something better. At the very least they want a better president. Belarusans have an inspiring history. They are very proud of the fight they put up against the Nazis in the Second World War. Their capital, Minsk, was absolutely leveled during the war, but they rebuilt. They lost a huge percentage of their population -- mainly Jews -- during World War II, but they went on. They have kept their culture even though their borders have changed dozens of times over the years.  They are a country with a difficult and confusing past and an even more complicated future.

I know I complain about Moscow a lot. But after this little adventure I kissed the Russian earth the Tuesday morning before Christmas when I returned from Belarus. I laugh now thinking about how I had planned to do the last of my Christmas shopping in Belarus. Instead I found that there is very little commercial enterprise -- most things are still made and sold by the government, and let’s just say the government is not really into the most current trends. There are the most basic supermarkets -- about the size of your local 7-11 and carrying almost entirely Russian products. It is exactly what I always thought the Soviet Union would have been like. If you are in any way nostalgic for the days of Stalin or just curious about what Russia might have been like during that time just hop on over to Belarus.

To be fair, a lot of the guide books say Belarus is the place to come for Cappuccino Communism - because private enterprise has crept inside, in certain places. For example, Minsk, the capital, has a McDonald's and a TGI Fridays. They also have a couple of coffee shops -- something that was apparently unheard of in the USSR. But the lack of small business is painfully obvious and hotels, restaurants, and cars are incredibly dated. Calling the city sterile and utilitarian is generous. And oh, did I get my brief taste of Soviet ways. At one restaurant I asked for butter with my bread. The server told me such a thing was ‘forbidden.” While butter was in the kitchen for cooking, the server confirmed, it wasn’t listed as an item on the menu. Therefore it could not be purchased. There is no price. It could not be “documented.” Amazing. And the toilet paper! It is really, really horrible and the hotel only gives you more when you ask for it -- which is kind of awkward. Since moving to Russia people always make jokes about whether we can buy enough toilet paper… “is there still a black market for it?” friends ask me. In Moscow, in fact, I can have all the Kleenex Deluxe Super Soft TP I want. Belarus is the real deal. Totally sandpaper. And evidently only on demand.

I had some really interesting moments during my little sojourn. I went with David to a performance of the country’s famous underground theater group. Only government controlled theater is officially legal, so actors in Belarus created the group in 2006 -- it’s called The Belarus Free Theater. To get to a performance you have to venture to the outskirts of Minsk, then you’re brought to a small house through a back door. You find out the performance location via text message shortly before the show. It’s the theater company’s attempt to deter the local KGB from visiting. I sat on the floor with maybe 50 other audience members. The play was a true story about a woman whose husband was killed by government officials in 1999 for supporting an opposition group.Those were the events unfolding on a performance stage.

Two days later, on election night, the husband and wife who run the theater group were arrested on the streets of Minsk.


An unusually big and fabulous hotel room-Brest, Belarus 



Our shower in one lovely Minsk hotel-we only stayed 1 night.



The dining car on our Minsk to Moscow train-it wasn't decorated for the holidays-
it always looks like this....



Waiting for the performance of the Belarus Free Theater



The director of the theater-arrested a few days after I took this photo.



The Minsk holocaust memorial-it is situated in the heart of the old Jewish ghetto, created by the Nazis during WWII-over 2 million Jews lived there at one point.



The lobby Hotel Belarus in Minsk-I do not recommend the place....



WWII Memorial in Brest.

Same memorial-different angle-it's huge!

What started as a peaceful protest....

Very scary riot police.

Riot police blocking the doors to our hotel-at one point no one was allowed to leave.

Travelling in the Old U.S.S.R

Let me tell you about travelling in the former Soviet Union.  You never know what you’re going to get. We’re talking propeller planes, over-crowded trains and hotel rooms that are so gaudy they would give Donald Trump’s plazas a run for their money. Driving is often out of the question, with the looming threat of having to bribe traffic cops and also the traffic preventing getting in or out of Moscow. At rush our, it can take three hours just to get across the city – and you have three hours of rush hour in the morning, another three at night. But train travel can mean being shoved in an archaic commuter train like a sardine while young Russian men drink large, luke-warm beers around you and everyone smokes between the train cars. Travelling here must be done strategically and must be well thought out before embarking on a trip.  Things will go wrong.  But if you are prepared for that you end up laughing and sometimes even being pleasantly surprised by a bad situation that turns itself around.

There are so many aspects of post-Soviet travel that I could elaborate on but this post is dedicated to the hotel rooms.

A couple of weeks ago we decided to explore one of the small towns that surround Moscow -- Vladimir. We knew it was not the quaintest of the Golden Ring cities surrounding Moscow but it has a lot of history and we wanted to see it nonetheless. As if to reward us for our adventurous spirit, the hotel we stayed in decided to upgrade our very inexpensive room when we checked in. We still think they might have had us confused with other Americans staying there -- maybe VIP, important Americans of some type -- because rare is an upgrade in Russia without greasing the palm of a hotel manager or security guard. Now that I have used the word “upgrade” you may be thinking about the time Hilton upgraded you to a suite just to be nice. Or some amazing room you once stayed in. Erase those images and think of the apartment of the nice old lady who lived alone down the street where you grew up. Or maybe think of the bathroom at your local Buca de Beppo. We have no idea why we were given the most extravagant room in the hotel but boy, did we ever appreciate the blue and white heart-shaped pillows, the smell of smoke that had been collecting for 30 years, and the drafty windows. I think the real draw was the balcony (which we sincerely liked) but it was 20 degrees so I don’t think we fully enjoyed it.  Our room did occupy an entire floor of the hotel and from the outside you could see that we were actually in -- a turret of sorts. But regardless of how rough around the edges our room was, we really liked it for all of its kitchiness. It was one of the many unexpected moments that happen here a lot.  Mother Russia can be cruel but every so often she sends us little reminders that it’s not so bad.

I had to pass on the photo evidence to this shrine to Soviet style. There will be more of these rooms in our future for sure and I won’t forget to document every last one of them. Please enjoy the photos.

Love the baby blue!

Did I forget to mention the bathroom?

Private dining for two...

Our turret

The terrace

The view from our terrace