9 - The Nyet (Moscow)

St. Petersburg to Moscow, RUSSIA - 30 July 2002

St. Petersburg is located at such a high latitude that by summer, it has, what they call, ‘White Nights’ where the sky seems to stay bright late into the night and turn dawn in the wee hours of the morning.

I was not really sure which days in summer they would consider the real ‘White Nights’ but even at 11pm now, the sky was still light blue. By midnight, I could then see the intense blue of ‘after sunset’.

Because of this, for the past days here in St. Petersburg, I had been thronging the streets, out there, on the move… for up to 14 hours a day. Although I felt physically tired, I sometimes got a surprise when I realised the time! Then, I felt it necessary to hurry home although it seemed to be still day-time.

Today, with the accumulation of five days of hard walking, I decided not to join Karla who was going on a Peter’s Walking Tour. Instead, I headed to the Botanic Gardens and sat there the entire day, feeding mosquitoes. Some days were meant for doing nothing…

The mosquitoes were sucking my blood from my feet ravenously. After reading St. Petersburg Times, I wrapped my feet up with the newspaper. I must have been quite a sight. Sitting on the bench, cross-legged, reading a book, and I had, what would appear to the Russians, smoked fish wrapped in newspaper (that was how they were done here) sticking out from under my pants.

Karla later told me that they went on a very interesting Fyodor Dostoevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment’ Tour with the tour guide Peter. Peter had taken them to all the places mentioned in the book. Although Dostoevsky did not write down the street names or bridges or whatever, scholars had traipsed around St. Petersburg and figured out the places. Karla highly recommended Peter’s Walking Tour to all visitors. He would meet at 10:30am at the Youth Hostel everyday and ask the participants where they want to go, what they want to see. So far, I had heard rather good reviews from other participants as well.

Hmmm… now I was interested to read ‘Crime and Punishment’.

By the way, I took the night-train to Moscow tonight and I bought the ticket by myself.


Moscow, RUSSIA - 31 July 2002

While in St. Petersburg, I had obtained a contact for a Russian lady, Galina, who rented out beds in her Moscow flat. I had emailed her and she had replied that a bed was available for a few nights. Her flat was a tiny one. But it was much cheaper than any hostels in Moscow and very central. Galina is friendly and speaks some English.

I dropped my backpack and immediately headed out to the Belarussian Embassy, hoping to submit my passport and transit visa application before 12 noon. I realised the staff working at the visa section did not speak English as well. This seemed really strange to me. I mean, I could understand those women working at train ticket windows did not speak English. But people working at the visa section had to meet people from all over the world, hadn’t they? And they did not speak English too? I was lucky to be queuing behind an American who could speak Russian and he helped me with my various queries. I submitted it right at 12 noon. Phew.

There was a haze over Moscow. It seemed there was a bush fire nearby because of the intense summer heat. So, it was really hot and humid today.

Since Irkutsk, I had long noticed that the young, gorgeous Russian women here mostly went braless. Everywhere in Irkutsk, St. Petersburg and now Moscow, nipples were poking out from tight shirts and skimpy tops. I supposed in a country which was cold for three quarters of the year, the ONE quarter of the year where it was sunny, these confident ladies would want to toss out all jackets and woollies and bras… and strut their stuff.

Guess we were lucky to find ourselves in Russia in that one quarter of the year. In Irkutsk, Ben and I had permanently popped-out eyes, staring at the nipples which were very nearly poking at us. Even under pressure from the visa thing in Moscow earlier, Pablo and I were going, “¡Qué tetas!” at the perky ones.

I was not alone to note the Nipple Safari. I came across an article in the Moscow Times where the reporters went and snapped photos of the various kinds of nipples. They had classified them into Handfillerus Mediumus, Perkius Androgynous, Siliconus Perfectus, Startingus Saggius, Pimplus Prepubescentus, Thrustus Maximus, etc…


Moscow, RUSSIA - 01 august 2002

I trotted over to Pushkin Fine Arts Museum, Moscow’s premier foreign art museum to savour more European art. There were more portraits with insipid titles like ‘Portrait of a Woman and a Girl’ and ‘Portrait of a Lady in a Toilet’ (I am serious about the last one). I found that by now, in some cases, I could waltz into a room and declare, “Boy, this has got to be Gauguin.” Not bad, not bad…

Once again, I failed in locating charming and affordable little cafés here in Moscow. I was not even picky about the taste of the food.

I finally settled for lunch at the food court in Okhotny Ryad Shopping Mall which was charmless and extremely expensive. The problem was that food was charged by the weight, something which I was not used to. I hesitantly pointed to something behind the glass counter, the lady scooped out a portion, microwaved it, plonked it down at the weighing scale and proceeded to convert it to roubles. Bang, R195 (US$6.50+)! Now, you could not say that was too expensive and you did not want it anymore, could you?? Then, you had to try and swallow the awful food in order not to waste it.

In the tiny apartment of Galina’s, sharing the tiny room where Galina managed to coax five beds out of it, was this Norwegian guy. Searching through my Scandinavian database to try and give him a name… let’s see, Anders, Bjorn, Erik, Frode, Hans, Lars… ow about Lars? Lars made several phone calls that evening and I could not help overhearing his conversations which were peppered with “How old are you?”, “How tall are you?”, “Do you have any children?”

Hmmm… This must be the Russian Bride Marriage Agency thingie we had heard so much about. Lars had come to inspect the ladies. He claimed to be under pressure as his visa was running out by end of August and he MUST find his bride by then. I would not worry if I were him. I had a peek at his list and it included ladies from Estonia, Latvia, Ukraine…


Moscow, RUSSIA - 02 august 2002

As expected, the Kremlin was crawling with throngs of tourists early in the morning. There were a few interesting and very beautiful Russian Orthodox Churches and Cathedrals with the typical onion-shaped domes located in the Kremlin. But, to me, the place most worth visiting was the Armoury.

This required a special ticket, more expensive than the main entrance ticket and it was only open for a short time during our visit for crowd-control. I had already splurged on all the tickets and photo-charges, plus my baggage deposit, so why not toss in another R120 for the audio-tape explanation. But boy, was I glad I had the audio-tape with me, it surely made the Armoury exhibits come alive.

The Armoury contained a profanely extravagant collection of treasures hoarded over centuries by the Russian State and Church. The display cases were all glistening with diamonds, crystals, silver, gold designs for bible covers, icons covers, cutlery, vessels and all sorts of tableware. Then, there were fabulous jewellery, amazingly detailed Fabergé Easter eggs, weapons and armour, royal regalia, thrones, costumes (including the one worn by Catherine the Great during her coronation) and gold carriages. It was opulence in great abundance. My heart beat very fast throughout the visit. The Armoury was unbelievable. While the value of the treasure must already be overwhelming, the historical significance of these items had made them priceless.


Moscow, RUSSIA - 03 august 2002

I had a few friends to visit in Europe and I would be staying with some of them. I wanted to get them gifts. I had bought three snuff bottles in Beijing but I needed a few more for the rest of the friends.

Izmalovsky Park apparently had a huge weekend crafts market and so I found myself wandering up and down the stalls determined to buy something.

I had long grouped my financial expenses into a few major needs - Food, Accommodation, Transport, Must-dos (Sights and Visa stuff) and Ice-cream. So, to fork out money for souvenirs felt really odd to me.

Unfortunately, there was not a wide choice of interesting and affordable Russian souvenirs around. In the end, I bought the typically Russian but very kitsch matryoshka dolls. I felt a little embarrassed by them. I guess I had to assure my friends it was the thought that counted.

I finally located Moscow’s Anglia British Bookshop in an impossible location. I stared at the price of ‘Crime and Punishment’ and did mental sums. Well, I had to get it. Now that I had been to St. Petersburg, I had to read something by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Enough of trashy novels I had been exchanging in China. I was going to read a good book. The purchase pleased me immeasurably.


Moscow, RUSSIA - 04 august 2002

I spent 4 hours today walking around the centre, trying to locate a bankomat that worked. 4 hours!

I wanted to buy my train ticket to Warsaw, Poland first thing tomorrow morning. I had the approximate price for the ticket and I just wanted to withdraw R1500. I started to have Beijing flashback as I tried bankomats after bankomats, and all claimed the service was unavailable for the moment. I even crashed a machine outside a supermarket. It took forever to reboot. I hurried away, thoroughly guilty. I finally changed US$50 in a hotel to save my sanity.

By the time I tiredly staggered into the moody Sculptures Park, I dropped on the grass and dozed off at once. The park contained a collection of Soviet statues - Stalin, Dzerzhinsky, Lenin, Brezhnev, etc… These were ripped from their pedestals in the wave of anti-Soviet feeling after 1991 and were now, placed here. When I regained consciousness later, I came upon some sculptors working on new works in the corner too. The Sculptures Park is a really nice little place to spend an evening.


Moscow, RUSSIA - 05 august 2002

After purchasing the Moscow-Warsaw train ticket, I had very few roubles left for today and tomorrow. I would not be changing any more money. I calculated that if I ate sharwmas from the kiosks outside metro stations and McFood, I would just have enough to pull through.

In fact, I had been eating sharwmas the past few days. They were cheap, could fill my stomach well and were usually served by dark, handsome men of Turkish origins.

As this was my last day in Moscow, I decided to make one last quick round of metro-hopping, in order to re-visit the Moscow metro stations famous for the exquisite art and designs. After all, the whole excursion would cost me the fare of one ride.

Some of the more famous metro stations are like grand ballrooms or theatres. Walking down the steps, I sometimes imagined myself gliding in a beautiful evening gown… and then, tripping over the gown and crashing to the bottom of the steps in the most ungracious fashion, breaking a tooth in the meantime, with my luck.

I will list the more stunning stations for the benefit of readers who might be inspired to come to Moscow in the future, despite my er… non-too-favourable updates (I’m sorry, but I really felt a tad defeated here).

Komsomolskaya on the circle line has chandeliers and mosiacs of past Russian military heroes. Kievskaya on the circle line is also very beautiful. Mayakovskaya won the 1938 World’s Fair in New York for its design apparently. I liked Belorusskaya and Arbatskaya as well. Park Kultury, although I did not get off, seemed to carry some interesting sculptures when I zoomed by.


Moscow, RUSSIA to Warsaw, POLAND - 06 august 2002

I went to McDonald’s and scanned the board. Apparently, the names for the burgers were transliterated from English into Russian. So, McChicken would be pronounced as ‘M-C--C-H-I-C-K-E-N’ in Russian Cyrillic. They did not replace the word for ‘chicken’ with ‘kuritsa’ [‘chicken’ – in Russian], for example.
So, I walked up to the counter and said, “Hamburger” which was the cheapest, of course. The sour-faced lady frowned and shook her head. Oh no, not another ‘Nyet’! She was working in McDonald’s and she did not know ‘Hamburger’? My eyes returned to the board. Oh OK, there is no ‘H’ sound in Russian. ‘H’ is always replaced by the Russian’s letter for ‘G’. “OK. GAM-Burger…” Then, she threw me an unforgiving look before demanding payment.

Yeah, I should have noticed the lack of ‘H’ by now. True, ‘Harry Potter’ was ‘Garry Potter’ everywhere. ‘Hercules’ would be ‘Gercules’. You get the idea…

For my Warsaw train ride, I originally shared a cabin with a middle-aged lady. When the train left the station, her friend kept popping over and eyeing me sternly. The train conductor was finally dragged over and he looked me over with a disturbed face. “Pa Russki? [You speak Russian?]” he tested. “Nyet.” My turn to use this word. “Pa Polski?” Y-e-a-h r-r-r-i-g-h-t, I can speak Polish. “Nyet.” I shrugged. Hey, I rather enjoyed this.

They furrowed their brows, consulted one another and muttered away disappointingly. OK, to put them out of their misery, I did a swapping gesture with my two index fingers dancing around. Their eyes lit up with delight. I was shown the new cabin. My new travel companion would be a hot-looking red-head. Sure, why not? Sometimes, they just thought it was impossible to communicate without Russian. They just did not try hard enough.