To one of the Dead Cities

    There are still areas in Russia that are forbidden to tourists. But then those areas are pretty much forbidden to locals too. Some areas need special permission permits and paperwork to insure you don’t get lost, hurt, or preyed upon by the wildlife. This is not so different than Canada. We too have areas like this and while the locals at home are pretty much unaware of these restrictions, the people here are not.

So venturing into the mountains close to the disputed border of Georgia along the main roads is fine but taking the path less traveled is a little riskier. Having made the trip into Georgia, and seeing these gorgeous mountains had me doing research into the types and composition. Along the way, I found out that this area was kind of part of the Silk Road in ancient times. The Ossetian leopard and other local furs where coveted the world over by Kings and other royals alike. Access to the Black Sea gave this pass a great deal of traffic along the lowland and much gentler slopes than the ones directly south.

But ancients and armies both adore easy rolling hills and so this specific pass was one of those areas if not forbidden to tourists then to use a Russian saying “not easy."  Yet, I really wanted to see it. Dargavs is one of the most famous or well known but our chances of being questioned and detained was high. The locals shunned the area based on superstitions held as real today as then. However, grave robbers did frequent the area and disturbed the dead and locals alike. Ossetians placed coins; some of them gold, in wells outside of these crypts and so some would be drawn to steal from these dead. Some later crypts contained mothers still with babies in cribs both going into quarantine to protect the village and so you can imagine the locals outrage at the discovery of these being disturbed.

We decided to go to a different area that contained these Nakh towers and crypts. One of our local friends had friends of his own in this village and knew the area well. It is in the same mountain range as Dargavs about three hours from Vladikavkaz. The day was cold and overcast in city and we drove through the mist and fog through small towns and smaller villages. We took an unmarked side road that followed the river and as we drove through the trees silvered with ice, I noticed the outside temperature was rising. It had showed –5 in the city and was now hovering around 0. As the car climbed higher, the rivers path became more spectacular, cutting deep twists and creating tall pillars in the mountainside. Asland our friend and driver pointed out interesting formations with increased frequency and when we turned a corner into the shining sun, I looked at the temperature and saw it was +5 degrees. The man’s name and connection to the famous book The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe only added to my increasing sense of amazement.

Like so much of history in Russia, it is difficult to get a “searchable” three-source answer to things.  Some say these Nakh towers date back to the 16th Century and others 12th. Some maintain the Nakh people built them all and others claim that the Alania-Ossetian people of the time simply copied the design. What is certain is that they were used as burial chambers and as quarantine structures. What had caused many villagers to get sick was also in question but from talking with locals and research the most frequent use was from an outbreak of cholera.

There had been a cholera outbreak and entire families had been moved from the river floor and village site and walled up in sick houses and towers on the surrounding hills. Left to die in quarantine, or survive, as the gods they worshiped dictated. Their friends and family brought food and delivered it via long poles and small windows.  Perhaps a dour reason to wish to see a place on the face of it but let me continue, part of survival as a society and species are making hard choices. This concept is used very well in the popular TV drama The Walking Dead. Our modern society has gotten used to the easy life it has provided us and so these life and death hard choices create massive tension between humanity and societal continuance.

Just like in the TV Drama these early Russians were faced with extinction as they had no idea how to deal or control this event. Cholera today is easily treated yet it still kills in Africa and I have personally witnessed a cholera outbreak and the effects on the village. So I can only imagine what these early people would have thought as they watched their loved ones bowels let go and they starting wasting away. It is easy to draw a connection to the Zombie fiction or the Ebola nonfiction. Families want to care for the sick, and the sick wished to be cared for. If quarantined and gripped with fever and fear they long for comfort and connection returning to homes and villages if they can. Spreading the infection and death as they do. 

The ancient people knew, or learned, this and took steps to survive. Hard steps and harder choices, none were spared, the sick to a person where exiled or went on their own to protect loved ones. Many mothers took their babies in cribs into these stone buildings.

Despite their age, the structures survive in relatively good repair. The site is a sacred one, remembered by the locals. The church and monastery are located on the valley floor and symbols and icons stare in remembrance toward the location of the sick towers. The towers themselves still stand and while certainly in dangerous states of decay they’re a somber sentinel to a strong people.

The towers are four stories high and  stretch in a line up the mountainside with newer stone single story buildings assembled at their base. Cows and sheep now graze peacefully amongst the ruins and the overall place has feeling of serenity.  The view up to the jagged peaks to the south or rolling peaks to the east and west contrast magnificently with the slope to the valley floor and the “village” that is quickly becoming a city.

The temperature inversion that I noticed on the cars dash a common occurrence here and the place is acquiring a name for itself as a healing town. A large Sanatorium is currently being built, with money as no object from the looks of the construction for just this purpose. Locals and visitors alike claim miraculous curative powers in the air and water. Asthma suffers with the ability to move here have done so for years.

It was with one of these new residents that Asland had arranged to host us for lunch. We arrived at a low-slung building with a large gated entrance. Our hosts were waiting for us and quickly ushered us inside and allowed us to look around. The owner had built the entire place by hand and it was truly incredible. In fact, just looking at the property walls made me wonder how many people had labored. Large natural, uncut stones were folded into a wall supported by these same stones broken into perfect halves. The building itself was similarly built and held a red tile roof. Inside the house had a small kitchen to the right of the entrance room and a common room off to the left. A bathroom was directly ahead of the main entrance and it contained a large eight person Russian sauna. This sauna formed the core of the building and actually heated the entire house. Wood was placed into a large enclosed brick fireplace and heated the stones within the sauna and the rest of the building too.

Albert, our host, and his two friends set about getting roasted wild duck and boar ready for us while we did a quick run to purchase three of the local stuffed bread. A tradition this bread comes plain or stuffed three ways. One is stuffed with cheese and potato, another with beets, and the third with ground meat. The table also contained salads and cheese made by locals, and of course three bottles of vodka.  Wine and beer where also offered and a bottle of water placed in front of Asland, our driver.  Drinking and driving have fallen as much out of favour here in the wilds of Russia as it has at home in Vancouver.

Toast were made following the traditional practices and stories told. A meal was shared and new friendships kindled as is also traditional and cultural. The people are very stern and conservative in ways and very welcoming and friendly in others. It is a rich mix of old and new and follows the script of sorts that makes you feel as welcome as family and yet toasted like a king.

A Georgian Road Trip

 

      Arriving back in Russia on the twenty-fifth of September was a bad idea as it meant I had to leave on the 24 of December. Now I guess that in itself is not a bad thing as winter is a little harsher in Anapa than Vancouver but as it was our first anniversary and Inga’s parents couldn’t really fly all the way to Vegas for our wedding we had decided to stay this winter. December brings birthdays, our anniversary, and the general festive celebrations shared with many around the world. Russia is no exception, but it does come with some changes.

Traditionally Russians celebrate the Winter season, as a festival, and only recently have started celebrating Christmas like North Americans.  Now like at home they celebrate Christmas each to their own level of Christian belief. They also still celebrate the old festival too, with old man winter and all the traditions that go along with it. Then comes New Years, followed by Russian New Year. All in all, this makes it a very busy time as Russians love to visit and mingle. So we added a little more to this festive season getting married in December. So we have plans for some big parties at home in Anapa and then in Ossetia before going to Moscow to celebrate Russian New Year. After that the warmth of South East Asia beckons, and will be home for a few months.
 
So I once again found myself needing to do a visa run to allow enough time to do this and not have to fly on Christmas Eve. Inga is still waiting for her external visa to be renewed so I didn’t want to go anyplace far without her so we decided to run home to her parents little village outside of Vladikavkaz and her brother Jim and I would go to Georgia for the day.

 
The trip to Georgia is only about an hour from the big city and is a wonderful drive. The road is very modern and reminded me of the Sea to Sky highway of the 80’s but with much more beautiful scenery. Growing up in British Columbia kind of jaded me for beautiful mountains, or so I thought. This area of Russia is truly beautiful, and barring the bloody history and Ministerial warnings I’ve already talked about should really be on a person's bucket list.
 
The white clouds circle the area around the city as the highway snakes out of the Soviet style buildings south towards the border. The wide road is new and shiny black with dew and mist that seems to be a constant blanket over the area. Watching the road and looking up the hills, turned golden with winter's approach, my eyes are drawn to a sharp, jagged cloud. Only then to I realize that the clouds the ring the city stop and are replaced by a majestic crown of white peaks.
 

These peaks seem to float on top of the clouds themselves and it is difficult to see exactly at which point they intersect. The gold of the autumn hill the shiny breastplate of armor on Saint George himself. That would make the black ribbon we were traveling on the Snake or devil depicted in so many paintings and coins of the realm. This road, while wide and for the most part in Russia freshly paved was a true snake of a road and dangerous. The closer we got to Georgia the steeper the elevation and frequency of switchbacks.
 
We arrived at the border proper and it was a relaxed sort of affair. The mountains were very close together here and mixed. By mixed I mean, coastal style hills with interior mountains slammed up against The Rockies, all in the course of five kilometers. It was surreal for me having lived my whole life in the coastal mountain range.
 
The Russian machine was in full swing and moved those of us that could follow lines and directions along in an efficient and quick manner. Many, unable to follow directions, were yelled at by a bear of a man that seemed completely amazed that Russians have challenges with lineups. Having traveled and lined up with Russians, I found this hard to believe as even as a newcomer this challenge was not lost on me.
 
Unlike at home you and your passenger get out of your car and approach the booth on foot under the watchful eyes of border officers. They then check your car as a person in the booth checks your paperwork. I had Jim with me so I didn’t try to interact and just relaxed and played the dumb tourist, and in ten minutes we were on our way.
 
The “no man's land” or border zone between the Georgian and Russian border is vast. I didn’t check the odometer to get an exact number, but it was close to five kilometers. This part of the road was in poor repair and made the going slow along the river. In the hills along the journey I saw large bunkers with obvious camouflage and “scope flashes” from more concealed watchers. This reminded me that tensions between the two countries, that used to be one, were far from relaxed.
 
We arrived at the Georgian border and Jim told me that I had to go inside and pass customs as only drivers were allowed to remain in the car. He smiled, at my obvious nervousness, and remarked that I need not worry they’d speak English.
 
They did not speak any English. They were not as nice as their Russian counterparts either. They had picked up that rather annoying American habit of saying something louder when it was obvious the person speaking with you didn’t understand the language, as if by raising your voice would suddenly make the person fluent in your tongue.  I pulled a Canadian habit, smiled widely and said sorry for not being able to speak Georgian. This was understood and relaxed the situation a bit and the officer asked if I spoke Russian. I smiled wider still and replied that I spoke a little Russian but better hand signals. This actually brought I smile to the officer's face and he said, “back” in Russian while gesturing to a web camera style device on his desk. I stepped back and he moved the camera gesturing me to remain still.
 
Picture took he asked if I had any guns or weapons and these gestures were entertaining the people behind me bemoaning their decision to get in my line. Then he made the international sign of money, fingers rubbed together, and I was a little confused if I was being asked for a bribe so obviously or if the visa on arrival policy had changed and now cost money.  I said I didn’t understand in Russian, and he thought for a second and said; “You how vino buy?” I had told him earlier we had come to Georgia to try their world famous wine. So I pulled out my wallet and from it my black Visa card and his eyes showed surprise and he nodded, stamped my passport and handed it back saying; “Welcome.”
 
I met Jim on the other side of the border and he said his experience was fine and looked surprised when I said they didn’t speak English.  We maneuvered through the throng on people trying to re-board busses and mini vans and I thanked my luck at having a private driver.
 

We drove into a little town with money exchange kiosks and wine huts clustered together on a parking lot overlooking the mountain valley and river. A flood had come through this area recently and the road was a mess and construction was everywhere. The signs apologizing for this were in English and Georgian as were many of the store signs and advertisements.
 
  Jim had discovered that the border closed at four so we didn’t have much time to sightsee as planned, but still made the time to drive through the first town to the countryside to see the view. It was an incredible view and worth the trip, but Gori and the Inga’s birthplace and family village home would have to wait unless we, as Jim suggested, wanted to spend the night. I had been away too much as of late and really wanted to be “back home” in Russia and my beautiful wife so that part of the trip and your story about it will have to wait till August next year.

The Social Media experiment and Thailand.

       I did a little test on my private facebook page and I think sharing it will be culturally illuminating. I posted a message saying Happy Birthday to President Putin and added a funny picture depicting the two presidents in day-to-day activities that called President Obama’s manliness’ into question. I got the idea talking about cultural differences and ideologies. Freedom of speech is an idea but if it stops at just an idea it really isn’t worth the cost it took to entrench it in our culture. In the discussion around this, I was asked to put my money where my mouth was. The general feeling here is people in the West don’t like Russians because of the countries policies.  Sanctions and sound byte rhetoric hasn’t helped this feeling as Russian people have unfettered access to outside news and have a smattering of English language ability. Perhaps not enough to capture the entire message, but enough to get the gist. So in my test I posted this picture and wishes and added something that was both true and an achievement about President Putin. Being polite is a Canadian stereotype.
 
The feeling was that in 24 hours my Facebook page would be inundated with harsh or downright hateful statements. My feeling was one of uncertainty as I really didn’t know what the post response would be. I know I hoped it would be respectful and I wished the brainwashing attempt of the Western media had failed as I like to think my friends and family are intelligent and respect the idea of freedom.
 
So the 24 hours are up and I was right, no hateful messages. What  made this test even more special is the response I got. As it is a private page, I will not add a name, but the one response I did get was from someone who risked his life defending these very same ideologies. A personal hero of mine and a man I deeply respect. He said, “Wow."  So in explaining this to friends here deepened both respect and understanding. They know I have family in the USA and were significantly more than a little surprised they said nothing. To have a Canadian soldier who has had Russian-made hardware fired in anger at him comment so respectfully really raised the bar on respect and understanding. It was obvious on the faces of these very hard men, many soldiers themselves that they understood what freedom of speech meant to us and while they may not agree with the statement “they will die protecting your right to say it.”  

Another less serious part of the test is just the cultural idea of what a man is. In Russia, a man is a provider and protector. Please notice I used “a” and not “the” in that statement. For men, it is important to do things stereotypically seen as manly like hunting, fishing, and engaging in tough activities. Less importance is put on the emotional side of things like connecting with the hosts of The View and sharing. This is not to suggest men are not emotionally connected to their partner. They just have a better understanding of the relationship. Equality has been alive and well in Russia a lot longer than in other cultures around the world so there seems little need to bemoan glass ceilings or gender inequality. People and relationships have in many cases settled on roles based on mutual acceptance, without life coaches and support groups. When men bring flowers, the arrangements are huge, beautiful, and may cost a day or two's salary. They do this past the usual reasons for flowers, they do it as they feel romantic and want to express it.

That was my foray into live Social Media experiments. For the many of you that are both friends and fans on my private page this is what that post was about that you saw and thought your private thoughts. I guess in that is the truest of truths. Our ideas and opinions are exactly that; ours and ours alone.  When an ideology becomes polarized with the added emotional dogma of culture, religion, patriotism, and lacks understanding of a different perspective it becomes explosive. Many of you probably shared the “Wow” sentiment and perhaps wondered and additional “WTF?” as well. Thanks for being my test group, and proving to many here in Russia that our ideologies are not just propaganda and rhetoric. That we do hold these ideas sacred and we “talk the talk and walk the walk.”

      So Mike Tyson probably said it best when he said a plan is only good until the point you get punched in the face. Living full time in Russia would probably be ok if I weren't such a chatterbox and social butterfly. However like Popeye said, “I am what I am.” So while browsing cheap visa run possibilities I saw a hot fair to Thailand. Thailand! I thought, wow visa run and mileage run all in one. So I booked it and hopped on a plane from Anapa to Moscow, and then ten hours south to Asia.
 
I am getting quite used to traveling inside Russia and know the way things go and what to expect so I like playing a game. The game goes something like this. How far can I get speaking only Russian and making the people think I am Russian? All the way to Thailand! I made it from Anapa on the Black Sea to Moscow and to my overnight hotel without having to resort to English or comedic gestures. The trick is not so much understanding the language but the culture of Russia. You need to adopt the walk and the way of interacting with the staff in a bored and relaxed way. I figured the international flight out would be a little more difficult and it was, but the look on the Passport Control Officers face was priceless when I handed my Canadian passport over. Seems like I have relaxed quite well into this culture. I even asked a Police Officer where the lounge was in the departures area, as I couldn’t get a cell signal to search for it. This is not really something a Russian would do. But my poor accent must have been mistaken for extreme frustration as the cop actually gestured and said, “Relax, follow me.”

So twelve hours found me in Bangkok, two in the lounge drinking beer, and then ten hours on the plane sleeping like a baby thanks to the previous two hours of beer drinking. I snore loudly when I drink, I’ve known this for years and have used it quite effectively in the past to get a room all to myself, and the same was true on the flight.  I awoke with the six other passengers moved to new seats. I apologized, its Canadian, and was told it wasn’t a problem. So I arrived in Bangkok refreshed and rested and as it was only 9 had the entire day to visit the city. Before I did that I had to enter the Kingdom.

The Kingdom is currently under Martial Law. When you hear that the thoughts it brings to mind differ depending on where you’re from.  For me, I thought that they would be a little more diligent in the entrance process and hoped they would still give me a thirty-day exempt visa. The process was no different than many other countries and I soon found myself in a huge airport. Bangkok airport, or BKK, is wonderfully laid out and very easy to navigate. The people are friendly and helpful and the whole Martial Law thing quickly slipped from my mind. I called a Uber taxi after getting a mobile phone sim at the airport. The phone sim was cheap and easy and the girls working the kiosk helpful and fast. They set up the phone and made sure it worked and showed me how to refill the minutes. The entire process took perhaps ten minutes. I hit the bank machine on the way out and grabbed my Uber driver using the GPS location sent to my phone.

Uber is more expensive to take from the airport, but the car was better than the regular taxis and the driver's English was good.  He was the one that actually told me he was more expensive. I asked the question and he said if I wasn’t long lined and they went on the meter that the trip would have been about ten dollars cheaper. He went on to explain that was a lot of ifs and that they wouldn’t use the expressway, as its paid, like we were going to do to avoid traffic. I so love Uber!
The hotel was listed as a five star and it was cheap. It was cheap and perhaps a five star a few years ago, I’d give it four, but it was clean and the staff great. I checked in early and set off to see some cultural sites.

As an older western tourist traveling alone, you immediately get sold the “boom boom” options. It took quite a great deal to convince my Tuk Tuk driver that I really did just want to see the statues and cultural stuff. But with effort we finally had an understanding that the kickbacks he’d get taking me to one of these fishbowls or shows wasn’t worth the risk of me getting out of his tuk tuk and walking away. A tuk tuk is a three wheeled motorbike that many use as primary transportation. There are also scooter taxis but riding “bitch” on a scooter that weighed less than me, driver included,  in Bangkok traffic seemed overtly reckless.

We did a few local temples and at each one he waited patiently for me. Then we set off to find a place that sold e-cigarette devices, as I had to replace the tank on my Aspire system. This took a few hours as things are very hard to find in Bangkok even with addresses and pictures. So after about seven hours together we arrived back at the hotel and I asked how much I owed him. We had agreed on a fare to the temple, but I had forgot to get a price for the other. Breaking the rule always agree on a price before getting onto a Tuk Tuk. He did the usual thing and said “whatever you think is fair." So in these cases I default to what was his service worth to me in Canadian dollars.  I handed him 500 baht and he was happy confirming our trip tomorrow to the river trip and floating markets. I confirmed, saying I would see him at ten. I knew he was getting a kickback from this and was totally ok with it.

The next day found us heading to the boat trip. I had slept in and was only able to grab a coffee and a quick bite before rushing down for ten so I asked Ping if he had eaten yet.

He said he had breakfast with the kids when he had sent them off to school, but could eat. So I suggested he pick a place on the way that he had frequented in the past and liked. This brought a look in the mirror and then a full turn around assessment. I continued saying “You pick, I buy, good for me good for you. It’s cultural; Okay?”  For those readers that remember we invited the cab driver up for lunch when we arrived in Anapa Russia. So Ping gave me another look and shrugged his shoulders and continued slipping through the morning Bangkok traffic without killing me. He turned down an alley and I could smell the river, past the other exotic and not so exotic scents. Passing a little cart with three folding camp style chair and tables Ping gestured with his head while swerving to avoid a cat with another in hot pursuit. He gave me a look in the mirror again and I said smells good. A smile crossed his face and we continued toward the river. We parked near the river cruise place and Ping suggested we get tickets first and offered to come with me on the cruise, to translate. I knew this was another way to get a little more out of me, but I liked him and thought he might come in handy, so I agreed. Ping ran off to put the Tuk Tuk in a better place for long storage and use his phone and a Guy walked over to take care of me. Absently I responded to him in Russian and he quickly disappeared, leaving me standing there. A couple where getting tickets and I watched them pay for a private boat on the long trip. It came out to 1800 baht, and they had not been delivered by Tuk Tuk as the guy was pointing out to the lady, while he walked by me to the dock, how it would have been more if they had taken a taxi and paid the kick back. Ping arrived and asked me what length of trip I wanted to do. I said the long trip and together we went to the desk to pay. Ping talked to the lady selling the tickets and confirmed, with me,  I was going to pay for him too and the total was 1500baht. There was a little more conversation between Ping and the sales lady while I paid and by the tone I could tell Ping was being firm. The lady was shaking her head yes as Ping and I left and walked up the alley toward the food cart.  I asked what was up and Ping said that she was trying to book us too early and we would be rushed for the temple and market because of the other bigger tour boats.

We arrived at the food stall and while I wouldn’t call it clean looking it was good smelling. Ping asked what I liked and I smiled and responded with “what do Russians eat for breakfast?” He got it immediately and laughed saying, “Yes yes you have no idea what this stuff is.”  I responded telling Ping I would have what he is having with a beer.  He told me to go sit.

After ordering for the two of us, he returned with a beer and two glasses, one full of ice. He took the ice glass and gave me the other and poured the beer commenting that the ice was tap water so no good for me. We made small talk till the lady delivered our food. It was rice with egg mixed in and then another cooked on top, with onion and other, spices beside chicken in a spicy sauce. When I say, spicy think of peanut sauce added to conceal liquid demon tears.

In Russia, they feed you Vodka to test you fortitude. This was a similar test with spice and I mixed it with my rice and added copious amounts of sugar to my beer when Ping was distracted to help quell the nuclear fission that was occurring behind by third bicuspid! I think I commented twice how spicy it was and Ping simply nodded his response as we both started sweating.

I seemed to pass the test and while I paid 190 baht for our meal Ping grabbed two water and another beer from the fridge and stuffed them into his backpack. “For the boat trip,” He said heading off down the alley gesturing in a Thai, palm down, for me to follow.  I did thinking to myself that a Tuk Tuk driver just bought me a beer.

The river trip was very interesting and after seeing the regular boats crammed with passengers I was happy I got a private boat. I’ve spent a great deal of time on boats so the rolling muddy river didn’t bother me, but I saw people in other boats feeding the fish with the expensive hotel breakfast they had eaten that morning. We saw the market, and the riverfront, temples near and far and Ping did his best to be tour guide in simple English and I could tell by how he said things he was very proud of the city.  It was a great day and I think Ping enjoyed himself as well. We ended the day back at the hotel and Ping said; “Thanks for the boat trip and seeing Bangkok Mr. Scott.”

The next hop was to Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand. I had made the decision that Bangkok was a little too much like Moscow but with Asian drivers and far too busy. I had made a connection with a guy in Chiang Mai on the internet and had decided to stay there for a week. So with money transferred via Paypal I boarded a Thai Airlines flight for the one-hour hop to the second largest city in Thailand.

Richard Katze was waiting for me when I got off the plane putting and end to my thoughts of being stranded in Chiang Mai without a place to stay. He took me to the studio apartment he owns and showed me around and made sure I was settled in. If you are looking for a guy in Chiang Mai, he is a good one to know and one you can trust.   The place was as advertised and perfect for a base to see if Chiang Mai was a city Inga and I could spend part of the year in.

The following day I grabbed a Tuk Tuk and agreed on a price to do a two hour just drive around tour of the city to get my bearings and a general feel for the place. During the trip, the sky opened up and a warm rain drenched everything and when it stopped the sweet florid smell of the jungle brought back memories of Africa and I knew I could make a home here.

The people are very friendly, Thai and Expat alike. English is widely spoken and if not the person is used to visitors and makes it work. I enjoyed the western style mall just up the street from the condo and the relaxed happy attitude of the entire city. I spent seven days walking various neighborhoods and looking at condos for rent and for sale. I ate in little roadside stands full of locals and in one or two fancier western focused places. It was all good to great food and very fresh and organic.

I knew Inga and I would be returning so I didn’t want to do any real touristy things without her, but I had heard of a place called Tiger Kingdom. Tiger Kingdom is a refuge and tourist attraction in one. It is set up to take care of, and allow tourists to closely interact with, tigers.  By close, I mean get inside the cage and pet these amazing creatures. The cats are not drugged or altered in any way.

They have all their teeth and claws and other than getting bathed a little more than tigers enjoy, are regular happy cats. Since the Nanny Nation of North America has made everything far too sterile and safe few people will ever get a chance to touch and feel these magnificent creatures. There is a real danger in doing this and one I thought about and weighed against the incredible opportunity. There are no handlers armed with guns or stun sticks. No easy way out of the cage once you are inside and other than being hand raised by humans these are wild animals.  So into the cages I went.

I reach for words a great deal in my struggles as a writer to tell you a good story. This time I will not try other than to say if you love wildlife and cats this is as close to a spiritual experience as you will ever have. The intelligence and understanding were evident in the eyes of these creatures and anyone who has lived with a housecat knows exactly what I mean.

Visa Run Complete.

   

     Aeroflot has great service and connections in Russia and outside. However, I say this with one caveat. If you're looking to book one class and then gate upgrade, if available, don't. Aeroflot seems to not get this procedure done all over the world. I booked my flight to London in their Presidents class as I had a very short connection in Moscow and knew I might run into long lines due to the time of day. I had loads of time returning so I left that as a coach ticket figuring I'd gate upgrade the redeye flight out of London and if I could the flight back to Krasnodar if it wasn't too expensive. Anyone that travels a great deal knows these gate upgrades are usually very inexpensive compared to booking ahead of time and rarely available with North American carriers practice of overbooking flights.

Now I don't know if it was just the two agents I dealt with or if as I suspect Aeroflot isn't really onboard with this practice. When I checked in at London, I was told I'd have to go to the ticket desk to change my flight. So off I went and talked to an agent. She was very nice, spoke English very well and told me this upgrade would be around 450 pounds! To have originally booked this flight in Presidents class was cheaper than this upgrade cost. So I left my ticket as it was and checked the front of the plane during the flight. It was a two and two three and three configuration. There were three empty seats upfront.

Just for the sake of research I looked into doing the same from Moscow to Krasnodar and was given one number that was way too expensive for a two hour flight, over 500 USD, and while I was working out the exchange she said she had made a mistake and gave me another number higher than the original price for upgrading from London!! After I saw the planes I was sure glad I had booked in coach, as the last plane was four rows of two and two and then the back being three and three. However, it was a newer plane with very comfortable pitch seats so the three and three seating was fine.

 As an international traveler, I have done gate upgrades a great deal. They work for the airline and me as the airline gets to now put another passenger onto the plane and show the first customer what the added space and service is like upfront. The idea is, of course, that the customer chooses to book in that class for subsequent flights with them.  Often the meal selection is limited and it is harder to do with two people but I have found for solo travel asking for a gate upgrade is always a good idea. I have recommended this to travel clients in the past but best not to do it on Aeroflot.

If I hadn't just spent three months in Russia, I might have thought they were trying to cheat me. It certainly would appear that way to an outside observer. How can the last two-hour leg of a six-hour flight be more expensive, by leagues, than the whole flight? But having lived here for a while I know this isn't the case and has something to do with Aeroflot's pricing structure.

So that's the bad about Aeroflot and hopefully they change it because if they do they will be a world contender for air service. I say this having traveled quite a bit on budget and not so budget carriers. Some of which I will never use regardless at price. One carrier that flys between Bellingham and Las Vegas comes to mind. I have seen fifty dollar round trip prices yet I will fly Alaska Air instead at triple the cost each way.  Service and my piece of mind are worth it.

     Aeroflot's service in the sky is awesome in either class. The President's class full flat beds on my flight to London where comfortable and the staff were super attentive. I saw the attendant serving my section check a couple of times with the other attendant to figure out how to say something correctly in English. Even in coach the effort was obvious. Compare that to a Canadian carrier flying within Quebec! Food from North America, Europe, and within the Russian Federation was tasty, fresh and plentiful. It also didn't come with an additional charge and even a glass of wine was complimentary even in the back of the bus!

I also noticed that kids are still invited up to the flight deck, on flights within Russia, to have a quick look around! I remember doing this as a child and it being a highlight of a trip to Disney Land. A great practice that ended elsewhere in the world due to fears of terrorists and hijacking.  Now the sixty-kilogram flight attendant stands in the aisle, supposedly to thwart access whenever the flight deck door is opened. Really? All it does is remind people they live in fear.  A real terrorist would be through her and into that deck before she stopped bleeding out on the lighted "this way out" aisle.

      So I soon found myself in London and was hit by the multicultural of it. Living within Russia and in the resort city frequented, predominantly, by Russians being in London was a culture shock. It was great to speak English, but it felt odd too. I found myself quickly adapting and very aware I was doing so.

Being the high season in London, I stayed at a "budget" hotel. It was still expensive by North American standards, but it was perfectly located and had awesome service. The rooms are small, but the hotel itself is a perfect business class design. It was called the Rockwell and it is close to Earls Court. I had a bunch of paperwork and various things to do and the desk staff was awesome at helping out.

I had booked six nights, in advance, as I was unsure exactly how many days it would take to get all these hoops taken care of. The stars aligned and gave me a few days to do some sightseeing. I have been to London before. I went to the London Book Fair when I released Grey Redemption as it was being featured. However on that trip I was only in the country for forty-nine hours and had little time to do anything. Prior to that trip, I had done some tourist stuff in-between flights to Africa.

This time I had loads of time and while being budget conscious I did get to see some very cool parts of London. I got to Gordon Ramsey's restaurant at the Savoy and spent a few hours at the Tate. I also took advantage of the open deck tour buses. The ones with real commentators as the recorded versions are a sad replacement. It allowed me to relax and get a good bit of research done while being entertained at the same time. I got a London Pass and travel card and I am certain this saved me money on my tube travel alone, not to mention the convenience of it.

I took advantage of a walking tour that was advertised as a Ghost Tour. It was more correctly a pub tour with asides about ghosts. It was part of my Big Bus ticket and was hosted by a short and wholly entertaining man. Rich in history, details, and jocularity it was a great way to spend a couple of hours. It wasn't a hard walk and we had a varied group from the US, Europe, Australia, and me. It was by far one of the most informative tours I have ever taken and well worth your time if you are in London
 
I also had the pleasure of meeting a long time internet buddy Elliot Taylor, or Riz. He has just finished writing a book called Up The Hammers. It is Military Non-Fiction and written in a style that is pleasing and interesting. So much of this type of writing is dry and reads like the textbooks that made you hate history. This is not the case with Elliot's book. He gave me a copy while we shared a long-promised cigar and some beers in the Garden of the hotel until they turned off the lights. Then we moved to a local pub and continued till they closed as well. This was not too late as London has rather old fashion drinking laws. It was a great time and awesome visit with someone I knew to be intelligent and was glad to discover a great guy as well. Get this book, it is available in soft copy, has great pictures and really sheds light on the realities of WW1 trench warfare from a uniquely British perspective.

I did a great deal of traveling on the tube while I was in London and even more walking and six days was more than enough. I was tired and relieved that my one-year multiple entry and exit visa was approved by the Russian Consulate.  This gives me a great deal more freedom to come and go from Russia as I please. Regular visas have many more restrictions.

     My return journey to the Russian Federation began in the evening with a trip to Heathrow four. The previously mentioned Aeroflot issues aside it went without a hitch. One thing for smokers to note Heathrow four is the only terminal that has a smoking area past the security checkpoint. It is out by gate three, downstairs and was a nice surprise as this was my last cigarette. I had decided and promised Inga I would stop smoking when I returned to Anapa. My journey ended at about the same time I left for the airport the next day. Being in coach, I was unable to really sleep; however I think I passed out a couple of times on the flight to Krasnodar and then again on the three-hour bus ride home with Inga

This blog is being written a week or so after I returned and so far so good on the no smoking promise and my back is just starting to feel normal after the journey. Sitting for too long is proving to be more of a challenge with the missing discs in L2 and L3 than it was when I was younger. Oh well, at least I know I am not wasting money paying to sit upfront! LOL!

London VISA run part one

Well, Monday morning has once again come to Anapa and finds me back in the Russian Federation with a new one-year multiple entry/exit visa. Don’t ask how I was able to secure such a rare visa as I will just have to use the Russian saying; “I know a guy.” Life here is like this to some degree. Friends help friends around the hoops and pitfalls that exist within the system. It is difficult for foreigners to grasp and harder still to participate. Russians warm slowly to new friends and I understand why. The expectation associated with the word friend has an entirely different meaning here. I am lucky enough to understand that from my home perspective as I have those expectations from my Canadian friends, and them from me, but I understand this is the exception rather than the rule at home. Here it is the rule.

So last week found me explaining to my Mom how things were and that I would be staying a little longer than my initial three months. Securing this type of visa could only be done in Europe. This type of visa allows me to fly home and back without the added headache of renewing and canceling existing visas as you can only have one visa active at any time. It also allows for free movement that is not allowed if I were to start a temporary resident process. So with the situation explained and the course decided on plans were set into action.

Flights out of Anapa during the height of the tourist season are as would be expected expensive. So Inga’s sister suggested flying out of Krasnodar. Krasnodar is the third largest Russian city and about three hours by bus away from the resort city of Anapa.  Promised easy connections had me feeling a little uncertain and having lived in Russia for three months I decided on leaving a day early and taking the opportunity to visit this Cossack city.

            We arrived at the Anapa city bus station, tickets in hand, an hour before our bus was scheduled to depart and it was obvious to me from the throngs of people that something was slightly amiss. Inga tried to figure out what was going on and despite speaking Russian had very little initial success. We were told that our bus was delayed till 1130, an hour and a half delay. About forty minutes later an announcement was made that the bus had broken down and passengers holding tickets had to get new tickets for a later bus. Inga went off with the mass of other passengers and got in line for new tickets. She returned with two tickets, costing slightly more, for a three pm departure. Welcome to Russia I thought. They cancel a trip, then an hour later tell people to get new tickets and after lining up for forty minutes charge you more money. If Russia is ever to attract international travelers they really have to get better at these types of things. Moreover, if the city of Anapa wants to keep the internal visitors that come to the Black Sea resort they have to address this as well. Many people we had been waiting with were now going to miss flights, trains, and bus connections. This also makes the "taxis" offering trips more tempting and these money focused drivers tend to push it, knowing they can make two trips loaded with non discounted fares.   Pushing it on the road from Anapa to Krasnodar is a very dangerous proposition. But people forced with cheap tickets that could not be changed took the risk. We waited, and Inga gave her place in line to a couple so they could arrive in time for the train. We could wait as I had secured us reservations at a nice hotel in Krasnodar for the evening.

sitting with missed flights and trains and other connections with the three to five-hour delay. This situation also added to the aggressive “taxi” trade with offers to get you there increasing in price and danger. A mini bus driver could now make two trips at high fares if he pushed it!

We arrived in Krasnodar and I forced us to take an expensive taxi to the hotel, having had my fill of a more frugal Russian style of transportation. The Hilton was like any other Hilton in the world, something I didn’t like or appreciate until this trip. I walked up to the front desk and spoke English and expected to be understood. I was and the desk staff was as organized and customer focused as any other Hilton in the world. It was refreshing and after a day of slow taxis, missed buses and hours of waiting. We checked in, handing our passports in to be registered, a custom still followed in places and retired to our room. It was clean and like any other Hilton in the world. While before this banal cookie cutter styling, and American focused décor would have irked me. This time it was a caress and I found myself feeling oddly guilty at needing this type of pampering. I took a long shower in the rainfall style separated glass shower and relaxed.

            Changed and freshly scrubbed we did what we usually liked to do and went for a walk. It was the weekend and the local main street turns into a “walking street” after the evening rush. Bikers, skaters, and walkers share the wide old streets in a very festive atmosphere. We walked north and directly across the street from the Hilton is a statue of two oddly dressed dogs made famous in

Mayakovsky's charming, playful poem about Krasnodar. We continued toward one of the old orthodox churches and noticed vendor after vendor selling honey. I had no idea that there were this many types of honey. The shops, if placed together, would have stretched half a kilometer. Along with these vendors were other vendors selling the usual and some unusual trinkets. One shop had two tables of weird art deco style lamps, ashtrays, and objects of art. One shop was serving coffee and as I had yet to discover the Starbucks that was rumored to be near I ordered a large coffee. It was a buck Canadian and rich, dark, and superb.

            We discovered a park, just before the gold topped church and a large monument and fountain. The wedding had taken place and the party was getting photographs done near the trees and fountain. There were also large groups of fresh young military types in pressed green camouflage uniforms and polished boots. I imagine that the training academy is close by but with the hostilities and Canada’s cooperation with the USA I did feel comfortable enough to ask. 

 

The fountain was pretty as fountains go and to the west was a massive monument. When we got close, I asked Inga to tell me what it was commemorating. She tired but it was written in Old Russian and she found it difficult. It had soldiers and Mongolian looking men with swords and musical instruments. On the fountain side, I noticed a British uniform and from the style and medals could ascertain it was from the Second World War.  Together we were able to decipher that it was the British and Cossack forces commemorating the lives lost in the war.

We walked back up the street past our hotel to the south and enjoyed two outside concerts. One was a traditional Cossack singing and the other a twenty piece brass band playing swing favorites of the twenties. There were lots of advertising for upcoming concerts and they were doing all the usual suspects from Macbeth to Kiss of the Spider Woman. Culturally Krasnodar seems to have a lot on offer and I did spot the Starbucks while we were walking south.

We returned to the hotel and Inga and I enjoyed a nice dinner in the hotel. It had pricing usual to non-Russian countries in that the food had a set price and was not sold by grams. I had a hamburger famous in the Hilton chain and was surprised to learn I could have it with beef, lamb, or chicken.  Inga had some duck spring rolls and we shared some nice wine. It was a perfect end after a stressful and trying start that made me glad I had learned how to travel inside Russia

 

            The next morning found us heading to the airport, which is about a thirty-five minute cab ride worth about 900 rubles. You can take minibuses, public transport, and trolley buses for a fraction of that but my frugality was about to be shattered in London so we went for a taxi. The car was clean, new, and the driver polite and professional. We arrived three hours ahead of time, as I was still stuck in North American practices and airports. We could have slept another two hours. Inga and I spent an hour together relishing the time as two people in love do when they both know they have to be apart for a while. The call came that the gate was open and I walked over to the first-class line and boarded being slightly chided by Inga, who was until then unaware I had booked the departure as first class.  I smiled that petulant and mischievous smile and kissed her saying I loved her and would see her soon. I walked down that first-class corridor, with its own security and screening and into the lounge without looking back. I knew if I did I would burst into tears and this was not culturally acceptable.

Ok what I think about the Ukraine conflict.

     So being so very close to the problems in the Ukraine, and being a writer of military fiction it has been very hard to keep my mouth shut about what I think of the fighting. Having been a solider in a few different incarnations and an avid researcher of conflicts may not make me an expert in my mind but I am certainly better qualified than some of the talking heads CNN and some other media are parading around these days.

 
Jumping through hoops in Russia for my own registration and visa issues has also put me elevator close to some of the people being displaced by the fighting. These people have the razor edge look of someone barely holding it together. Children have the blank stares that only come with a shattered childhood innocence. Instead of girls playing hoops and boys playing war they were forced to comprehend something intelligent adults struggle with. They have been exposed to the horror of war.

This in itself is a failure of humanity and the basic beliefs put forward by civilized peace loving societies. To have exposed children in this way supercedes the who is right question. Shattering the lives of children and making them try to grasp why people want them dead are concepts past their ability. The Kiev government, shares this responsibility with the other combatants.
 
While the west, and by west I mean my country Canada as well, parades the evil Russia as the responsible party these atrocities continue. Claiming Russia is responsible is a sideline issue and one done to muddy the waters of understanding. Disagree? Ok let’s compare some facts.

Russia may have sold or provided weapons and military support to the breakaway territories in the Ukraine. While this isn’t a proven fact I will for the purpose of this article say it is so. The USA has provided Israel with far more sophisticated hardware and detailed military intelligence. So claims of support, are as I suggest a sideline issue, to stopping the hostilities and saving children from exposure to hate and fear.
  
Charging the USA with hypocrisy is akin to penalizing an elephant for being fat. Charging Russia for protecting its borders, and people are in the same vein. No country on earth paid a higher price than Russia did in the Second World War. A war simply referred to here as  “The Great War.” Is this because Russians  love war so much?  Nyet! It is a sign of respect and admiration to those that fought against incredible odds to protect their collective mother. Mother Russia. This pride and understanding are universal. Children are educated about Stalingrad, and other battles not in a glorification but in the lesson of costs. They learn what freedom cost them.

            If I were to include all of the issues of how this conflict began and try to finger point responsibility, it would probably get me more comments and page participation than misspelling participation. This is not my focus. While I encourage participation and want to stimulate you to look into all of these issues, from many sources, finger pointing is not my focus. My focus is to get you to ask if this is right or ever ok.

Humanity left unpracticed is just a stupid idea and the monsters win. We all know what the monsters are for us. For some, it may be Vladimir Putin or Barrack Obama while others may say the Illuminati. I will not judge you for your monsters. In the spirit of full disclosure, my monsters are the International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization. Our monsters are our own.  Just as our values and ethics or humanity are. So for me it comes down to Monsters Vs. Humans a classic fiction story arch.

            Basic humanity says it is never ok to use artillery shelling in civilian occupied areas.  Arguing to the contrary is like trying to justify tossing a grenade into a pool full of children to kill a pedophile. Yes, we universally hate pedophiles; they are accepted monsters in most societies. But only an idiot would try to say tossing a grenade into a pool, full of kids, to kill one was ok. So too is shelling a city full of people and claiming the rebels are hiding within populated areas.
 
Before you start pointing the fault finger, stop. It doesn’t matter remember? We aren’t interested in fault we are focused on stopping a child, or any other person for that matter, from growing up with hate and fear. Because if we don’t the monsters win and we have all seen enough movies to know what happens then.

Fear! Fear happens, the monsters don’t need to eat you or wrap you up in goo and plant chest bursting seeds in you. They just need you afraid; too afraid to travel, too afraid to watch, and too afraid to speak up. Fear destroys the mind and our superior minds are what separate us from the rest of this watery ball’s inhabitants.  Fear of terrorists allows the monsters to supercede or basic freedoms. It makes us think we are unsafe and need protection from the wonderful unknown.
  
I was embarrassed to read that Canadian planes were delivering supplies to the Kiev government to help with the war effort and doing nothing else. That our Conservative government had locked step and was contributing to the grenade tossing and doing nothing else. Why not load those huge, and now empty, transport planes with women and children and remove them from the fighting?

Is it now ok to brutalize women and children regardless of side and fault? Did the Canadians mission overseas switch without a vote? Did we change from one of the world’s preeminent peacekeeping forces to a puppet force of the USA without so much as a debate in parliament?  Has my countries value and ethics so drastically changed without so much as a murmur? Why are the Canadian people suddenly ok with this?

Sure it is only sleeping bags and cooking pots but these bolsters the armies’ morale. A morale that has been lacking because the regular soldiers, on the ground, have been deserting because they don’t want to be monsters.  No hero songs have ever been sung about the indiscriminate slaughter of children.

            I know I have simplified this issue a fair bit and I have only put two sides forward in a story like fashion but do I need to make it more convoluted? I believe that killing women and children in any war is not acceptable. I believe that we as humans have a debt and obligation to children to provide at the very least a safe childhood. I believe love and faith in the human race demand this of each of us and it is a personal responsibility owed to all of those in this world. I believe if we fail at this obligation couching our actions with words like practical and reasonable instead of the reality FEAR we make a choice. The choice is living with fear and not living with love and then the Monsters win. The monsters should know there are always bigger and more powerful monsters just waiting in the shadows to pounce the day humanity dies….

Culturally Russia

     I was reminded; today by Robert Dugoni that one of the best things about being a writer is the research. If you've been following this blog, you know I am in Russia doing research for the next book in the series with Rhys Munroe. Why did I need to travel all this way and bare the expense is something the taxman may ask me, and something I asked myself.

Before I got here, I don't think I could have answered that question accurately. I mean I have Google maps and street view I could have done all this research sitting at home. At least those were my thoughts prior to getting here. Now I know it would have been a very bland account. Russia has a very rich and complicated history and culture. Even now after three months in the country I am just scratching the surface of this. My grasp of the language is still minimal, but my understanding of the culture is much better. Like a deaf person who is able to see better because of his lack of hearing my ability to understand body language and glean meaning via these observations are far superior to how it used to be. The Russian people and country are, for the most part, very misunderstood in the western world. Simple things like eye contact are ruled by culture. There is an old Russian saying. "A person that sees less lives longer." This saying and behavior is carried forward into the  day to day interactions on the street. You can look at the person coming toward you but if your gaze does more than linger you force the person you're looking at to access why. Eye contact is supposed to be only brief with strangers. These behaviors may be similar in certain subcultures in Western society, like gangs, but unlike subculture modalities it is common here.

Sometimes as a foreigner I forget. A very tall women wearing five inch heels on very uneven streets may catch my attention if I look too long she is forced to figure out why I am "staring." Now in western culture a stare is a look that lingers for say twenty seconds. In Russia, that time frame drops to about seven seconds. So I am trying to keep my thousand yard stare while allowing my perception to record the subtle observations and nuances of the scene I am viewing. As in the above example; how can she possibly walk on these streets with those heels and what kind of pain is she going through for fashion?

     Fashion and dress are another culture difference that was hard to get a grasp on. Neither women nor men just toss something on to go out. While it is a stereotype that Russians overdress for everything, it is partly true. But it is through our eyes and western perception that we judge this as overdressed. The importance of being successful and taking pride in what they do is part of this. The change Perestroika forced on them created a world that was hard in judgment.  If you weren't successful, it was because you were lazy or not trying hard enough. You were all of a sudden free to pursue whatever dream you had and could rise above your birth station in life. We in the western world have long understood that while every child born in America or Canada can rise to be the leader of the country time has tempered this ideology with understanding. Perestroika is still fresh and that temper has yet to take. While we in the west see it as a great thing here, the jury is still out.

This was one of the hardest things for me as a westerner to understand. I mean freedom is held as one of our most-sacred things. So as I was doing research and came to suspect that the average Russian didn't value the new Russia as I did, I had questions.

I asked this question to my good friend and, brother from another mother. He said simply; "Go walking in a graveyard and look at the ages of the ones you find there." I have done this on a few occasions now and I understand what he meant. Russia was handed this freedom without a "how to" manual. It tore a bloody swath through the youth of the land. That revolution was hardly reported on in the western world and the price for these new opportunities was huge. An entire age group barely survived the change.

 Now it is oddly karmic that it was Marx that said "only true change comes through violent (and bloody) revolution."  But what was stranger still to me as a westerner was most local average Russians do not view this as the Great Event it was touted as in the west! They are happy for their new-found freedoms and opportunities, but direction is still missing. The west is still viewed in less than accurate light. When I explain our taxation system and size of our government, I am greeted with stares that reflect a disbelief. Canada is still viewed by Russians as the land of great riches and opportunities. While this is partly true explaining the reality of taxes and houses priced in multi-millions of rubles is greeted with astonishment. Long waits for healthcare and surgery are openly viewed with suspicion. Education and post-secondary grants and structure are past easy translation. Like explaining to a colourblind person what is the colour blue.

Simple and very obvious questions about supporting tomorrow's leaders and researchers are past my ability to explain. The actions of my government in these regards are basically an embarrassment and something past my ability to convey. How do I explain to someone that respects the elderly and supports the efforts of children to learn that we in Canada spend over a hundred thousand US dollars a year to incarcerate a bank robber while allowing our pensioners to live below the poverty line?  That highly trained Officers in jail check on these pieces of social garbage every forty-five minutes overnight to ensure they are alive while my grandmother in an old age home is checked only twice during the night? These are concepts past easy understanding in my culture, yet they are reality and the reality that I can't explain. I mean does the average Canadian actually support this? No! But we lack the ability to change it. While our elected and appointed leaders are supposed to listen to the people there is a severe disconnect. In comparison; Prime Minister Putin actually has a time he takes questions and suggestions live on the air from average Russians. I would love to see my own Prime Minister Harper respond to questions from average Canadians. I mean he is responsible to us the taxpayers, right? These disconnects between the people and the government are far more vast at home than here in Russia.

 Some other observations that are not so politically loaded are the Russian Peoples acceptance. I have discussed this a little bit in other blog entries but let us spend some time exploring this idea. I speak very little Russian and while I am initially viewed as Russian when the truth is discovered it is viewed with a mixture of panic and interest. Panic because the person I am interacting with is now concerned they can't understand what I need. Compare that to the exasperation or outright contempt when most westerners encounter someone who doesn't speak English. When they get past that initial panic and understand that however we need to work it out, we will the interest sets in. They want to know where I am from and how I like it here in Russia. They don't assume that this is the best place on earth and I find that so refreshing.

At this point the broken English, Russian, and Google translate is mixed with a dynamic game of charades and, working together, we understand each other and get past the barrier of language.  This is viewed as fun for my Russian counterparts and they actually delight in the sounds and motions I have to go through to get my point across. The perception is joy interacting with another culture, rather than being inconvenienced by a fucking foreigner that is taking up far too much time.

This is not to say Russia or Russians are perfect. Lots of things are different or get under my skin being here. Time and boundaries are issues for my new Russian friends. The basic infrastructure of things and the way of doing things are different and as such a challenge. But perhaps most of all is the simple clearing of tables. You have to hang on to your drink as glasses left mostly consumed will be taken away.  Sometimes it's the little things in life that irritate you and can't we all be thankful for that!