I friend suggested I keep a journal of my trip, so here it is. It's long. Sorry.
Travel Journal
Thursday July 26, 2007
I woke up at 3:40am. The first thought I had was, what am I forgetting? I have taken the diabetes medicine and it’s not agreeing with my stomach. I had to take some Pepto Bismol. What a way to start a long trip! Thought I better pick up some more batteries before heading to the airport. I Arrived at Meridian’s Airport at 5:30 AM. It was open but no one on duty. I had to wait on them to find out if I was doing what I was supposed too. I really hate doing things I’m not sure of the out-come. The ticket agent was very nice and good-natured. I think all the Airline employees knew I had never flown before. It left me with a good feeling about the experience. I only wish I had known I had to pull my shoes off; I would have worn socks that didn’t have holes in them.
The flight out of Meridian was very pleasant. I especially liked the burst of speed on take-off. That was cool. They had only a few passengers on that flight. Mostly everyone kept to himself or herself. There were only 4 pairs of people traveling together. There was a couple there with a very young son. He was Maybe 6 or 8 months old. He couldn’t really talk yet. Whatever age that is. I couldn’t help be remember Bill Cosby’s comedy routine about the little kid that kept everybody awake during a long flight he was on. Little Jeffery, I believe was his name. This kid wasn’t too bad. I think I only heard him once.
I got the very last seat on the plane. It was the one right next to the bathroom. Not a bad seat when the chick with the hot little body had to go to the bathroom. The only bad thing about it was it was pretty noisy there. I really couldn’t hear what the stewardess was saying on the intercom. I would have liked to known when she said, put you head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye. But we made it.
I Arrived in Atlanta around 7:53 am. It’s really only about a 45-minute flight, but air traffic was heavy into the airport today, so we had too slow down and circle to wait for our turn to land.
After we taxied up to our jet way, we had to wait to get off the plan because they didn’t have anyone to connect the jet way to the plane. Everyone was ready to get off, Except me. I was comfortable there and wasn’t so quick to go onto the next adventure. I was both excited and nervous all at the same time.
The first thing I see after getting off the plane was a big sign stating that the threat level was at Orange. Was I supposed to know what that meant?
Obviously they forgot to tell me that my gate was way at the end of the airport. E 14
After asking everyone I saw who worked there, where E 14 was, I finally figured out that I needed to walk for a while and get on an underground train. That thing moved pretty fast too. I wondered if people ever get thrown to the floor when it takes off.
Finally made it too my gate. E 14 and to my surprise, (there was no one at the desk to reassure me that I was ok) there was nobody there to check me in. I just hope I’m in the right place, doing the right thing. I hope my luggage is ok too. I think when someone does come to reassure me…I mean check me in; I will ask them if they think my luggage is ok.
I asked one of the workers that were taking a break in the waiting room if there was an Internet hot spot around. He told me that for $ 8.00, I could get online from anywhere in the airport. Boy, I jumped on that with both feet. I emailed a few people, called home, and decided it was time to eat. (About 10:15 AM). Plus, I needed to take another diabetes pill. God help me. I could feel my stomach bubbling as I was walking back to the waiting room.
I looked for a Travel Journal. The closest I came to was a little girls Journal that was pink. I don’t think so!
I couldn’t help but notice all the different nationalities, Including the girl who tried to sell me the little girl’s diary. She was black, but had what sounded like a French accent to this country boy. She wasn’t bad actually.
It’s 12:00 Noon right now, and I need to go to the bathroom, but I really hate to give up this cool set. It’s only one of 2 spots that are close to an electrical plug for my laptop battery. The other one is taken.
Well that nice ticket agent in Meridian got me. She sent me to the wrong gate. It’s a good thing I asked an attendant that was checking in another flight. I spent 4 hours at E 14 which is the flight too France. My gate is E 26. And it’s obvious everyone is Russian here. It’s 2:00 pm and I still haven’t seen Simon. He said something at work about hanging out in the Business class lounge. I hope his flight made it ok.
Friday 7-27-07
Man! What a day. I finally got onboard the flight too Moscow. I met a cool young Russian guy in the airport. He was occupying the seat next the electrical outlet in E 26. He works in the United States every 3 months doing computer software stuff. His English was very good. When we finally loaded, I was happy to see that he and I were seatmates. And with very good seats, mind you. Right next to the emergency exits. We’re suppose to be willing to help out with the door incase of emergency. But what are the chances of that? These seats come with a price. They are also closest to the bathroom. Every time someone goes in to take a s**t. you have to smell it. After 10 hours of smelling s**t. I was more that ready to get off that plan. (I hope I can get them on the way home.)
As we got closer to Russia, it was weird watching the sun go down and what you have left is dawn. And that’s all you get. It never really gets dark, and 2 hours later, it’s daylight again. That might take some getting use too.
Finally, we arrive in Russia at about 10:30 am Russian Time. It looks drab and old. I wasn’t impressed. The people were not nice and inviting, as you would expect. I guess they don’t give a s**t about tourists. After getting off the plane, I couldn’t fine my passport information that Simon reminded me we needed. I looked everywhere and finally found it in the most unlikely place; inside my passport jacket. Hell, I really didn’t think the little paper was that important. Hell, it as the same information copied from my Passport and Visa. After clearing passport control, it was time to grab the luggage. I got a bit worried after seeing the baggage go around many times. After about 20 minutes, I finally saw the American Tourister with the combination locks I had put on. Whew, what a relief. I’ve heard so many horror stories about losing baggage.
Outside the airport many taxi drivers accosted us. Simon says they rip you off with expensive rides. So we found a bus for 40 Rubles. I think that’s about $3.00 American. Simon told the driver we wanted to go too Sharametavo 1. But the driver did not understand or decided to rip us off too. He took several others and us to some metro part of town and dropped everyone off but us. Simon and he argued in Russian for a bit. But ultimately, we had to come up with another 40 Rubles for him to take us to the right airport. I really didn’t mind the ride. It was giving me a feel for the city and the people.
The feeling I got was cold. There was very little, if any eye contact with anyone.
Anyway, after arriving at the right airport, we proceeded to the front desk to pick up the tickets Simon’s friend had purchased and left for us.
There at the desk was a fairly nice looking 20 something blonde Russian Girl. And she was exposing much cleavage.
Simon presented our Passports for our tickets, but pretty girl said she didn’t have them for us. Now, what?
Before I left on this trip, I called Cingular (AT&T) to set my phone up for use in Russia.
I give my phone to Simon to call his friend Maria, to figure out the problem with the tickets. No Service!!!!! Thanks AT&T !!!!!!!!
Simon decided to ask blonde, cleavage girl again and low and behold, she was looking at the Russian Spelling of the names not the formal names on the passports.
I guess that just goes to show you, blonde is blonde all over the world.
What is it about the smaller airports and making passengers take off their shoes? Once again, I’m forced to show the world I have holes in my socks. I happily do it just to get through this episode. Standing waiting for me too walk through the metal detector is a Russian guy that pats me down. Another big tall blonde Russian girl x-rays my luggage. When my laptop makes it through, she makes me take it out and turn it on to make sure it’s a real computer. Poor thing has probably never seen one boot up before. Her attitude sucked.
I cannot say that everyone’s attitude was bad. There was a very pretty girl waiting at Gate 4 with us that smiled brightly every time I caught her looking at me. She was going to Arkhangelsk also.
I noticed what looked like a father and daughter traveling Arkhangelsk also. They were American. Hearing them speak was like music too my ears. I hope I run into them while I’m here.
This had to be the Jet Blue of Russia. They loaded us all on a little trolley car and took us out to a little plane where we were met by yet another big, burley, blonde with no personality.
This is the first time I was actually seated with Simon. I guess because our tickets were purchased at the same time.
I was only seated a few minutes before I was asleep. 30 minutes into the flight, I’m out like a light. Then I feel a nudge from Simon. “Are you going too eat?” I wasn’t hungry and would have rather slept. But the first thing I thought of was, for $ 1700.00 bucks, you’re darn right, I’m going to eat.
Lunch consisted of Cold sandwich fixings and apple juice. I should have slept.
An hour later, we land. The place looked deserted since WW 11. It had been raining all day and had only stopped when Simon and I arrived. A Sign?
Simon and I knew Maria, Victoria, and Maria’s daughter Yanna, would be there too meet us. Victoria’s son Dennis and his friend Sasha were there also. Dennis speaks a little bit of English that he picked up in the Russian Army. He seems to be a very nice young man but I am sure he’s concerned about his mom’s welfare.
Saturday 7/28/07
&nb sp; I snored so bad, Vicka had to sleep on the sofa. I say sleep; she said she didn’t really sleep at all. I’m sure I did snore. I hadn’t really slept in 30 hours. I hope tonight will be better.
Around 11am we went to have our passports registered. Vicka and Maria did all of the paperwork. We called a taxi to take us too the office. Apparently Maria and the young blonde have become friends due to Simon coming here so often. There was a shorter older lady there. To me she seems old, cranky, and mean. Turns out she was widowed and wants an American Man.
Things actually went very well. After, we went to the restaurant where we would be having Maria’s birthday party the next day. Maria wanted to drop off some food and wine for the party.
After then we went around the corner to what they consider a mall. It was small but had a lot of shops in it. I took some nice pictures outside. They were mostly of the people in the court yard. From there we came back to the apartment. I liked it in the apartment. It’s just Vicka and I. Even though there is a slight language barrier, I still liked being with her. This was the first time we actually met face to face. We have been corresponding for almost a year. We already knew each other pretty well.
Well, it’s 7:00 pm and I’m going to shower and try to let Victoria try to get to sleep first in case I snore again tonight.
Sunday 7/29/07
&nb sp; I woke at 6 am. Vicka, however didn’t wake until 7am. I asked her if she got any sleep. She made the hand sign for a little bit. When I asked her how much, she said my snoring kept her up until 4am. I really felt bad. But what can I do. I promised her I would make sure she got to sleep first tonight.
There is a navy holiday going Arkhangelsk today. Vicka and I decided to attend. I thought it would be a good chance to see the city and get some good pictures. I think I was the main event of the show. For most residents, I may have been the first person like me they’ve seen. Vicka was right; I must look very exotic to them. A little boy was running along the edge of a very nice water fountain, when he suddenly saw me, he lost his balance, and fell into the water fountain. It wasn’t very deep and his mother pulled him out quickly. As his mother is leading him away, to find dry clothes I suspect, the little boy still managed to turn around and stare at me…I thought it was funny.
My batteries in the camera were running low. I told Vicka that I had new ones back at her house and that I wanted to get them before going to Maria’s birthday party.
So, we struck out looking for a taxi. They are normally everywhere, but today there wasn’t one to be found. That meant riding the bus, which I didn’t mind, but for some reason, it wasn’t at the top of Vicka’s list. Anyway, we boarded got the normal looks. Which by now ,I’m not only getting use too it, but kind of liking it. There on the bus was the perfect picture I had been looking for. Traditional Russians. But how would they feel about me whipping out my camera and taking their picture. I decided to avoid the possible beat-down and pass on it.
The bus only comes so close to the apartments, which mean Vicka and I had to hoof it a few blocks. We arrived at 15 minutes to 3pm. Maria and Simon were leaving for the party and I could tell they were a little upset. They were expecting to share a taxi over, but Vicka still had to take a shower and change clothes. I knew Simon would have something to say, but it really couldn’t be helped. I felt the urge to rush her, but didn’t. She was going as fast as she could. I hate being late.
I remind her that we still need to call a taxi. Not only were there not any at the festival, but none that could be called out. Both of us were totally despondent by this time. I asked Vicka if she would rather stay and catch up on her sleep. She kicked off her heels and
threw up her hands. I was all for jumping back in bed, but Vicka knew how upset Maria would be if she didn’t come to her birthday party. The restaurant was only a few blocks from the apartment so she asked if I would mind walking. At first I could think of at least 50 things I would rather do, but Maria is her best friend. So I conceded.
About half way there, the heels started kicking her butt. She thought we should stop at the next bus stop and ride the rest of the way, which was ok with me.
We arrived and Vicka wanted to buy Maria some flowers in the little shop beneath the restaurant. She had the Shoppe girl fix up a nice little arrangement.
Maria was happy that we made it. She stood and gave me a gentle kiss on both cheeks and I returned the kisses. (I could get use to all this European kissing.)
She, Simon, and Yanna, Maria’s daughter, were seated at the head of the table. They seated me next to the translator. The translator was a very attractive, blonde, English teacher named Leela. I’ll discuss more about her later.
Across from me were Sasha and Natasha. Sasha is a very famous artist in Russian. I cannot remember where I have seen him before, but I have. Maybe it was on PBS or something.
At the other end of the table were another Sasha and his wife, Tonya. Tonya turned out to be Maria’s cousin. Across from Sasha #2 was tall, very pretty, brunette named Inna and her son. Next to Natasha, there was an older lady named Golya. I though she had a huge personality. Even though I couldn’t understand what she said, she was very expressive.
The one thing I didn’t like about the whole dinner was how a couple of the guest tried pressuring me into drinking. In America, when I say I don’t drink, that’s the end of it. But Noooo. Not in Russia. I get these odd looks like I got a tail growing out of my head when I say no thanks.
The translator finally asked me straight out, why I didn’t drink. I told her that I was an alcoholic and I would really show my ass if I took that first drink. She nodded as if she understood. She also told me that it was her dream to go to America. I guess I knew that but I suppose it was another case of taking what I have for granted. American is just home to me.
I could tell that Leela the translator was interested in my story. She asked me if I were planning to marry Vicka. How do I answer that? I’m just visiting a close friend. But I tell her “maybe”. She also called me something I have never been called before. A hero. I did not reply at that time. I had to mull that over. It was hard to tell if that was a serious comment or what.
After several minutes, I leaned over and asked her what she meant by the comment, “I am a hero.”
She said for a Russian woman, it is almost impossible to marry beyond the age of 30.
I just nodded in acknowledgement.
A few minutes later she asked had I been married before and did I have kids. OK. Now I’m curious about all the questions. What’s up with you Leela? She leaned in again, later and asked did I own my own home and did I own my own vehicle. I answered all her probing questions and she seemed impressed. Not that any of that stuff was her business.
After dinner someone came up with a CD and the party moved into the dance area. Simon looked funny dancing, but I was happy to see him having so much fun. I was surprised to see they were dancing to Hip-Hop. I guess it’s all over the world. I wasn’t about to get up and dance to that, even at the prodding of the birthday girl and a couple more people. I could tell Vicka really wanted to dance, and she did solo through one song. A slow song came on, and I said, what the hell. I’ll dance with her. It was nice.
Everybody started to leave the dance floor. I thought this was a good time to leave the party. She and I both were tired. I went over and told Simon we were leaving, kissed Maria on the cheeks again, shook everyone’s hand at the table, and Vicka and I walked home.
We finally arrive home and I start writing this entry in my travel journal. I hear keys in the door. I think its Simon and Maria coming home, but it turns out that it’s Vicka’s 24-year-old daughter. Vicka informs me she will only be here for 10 minutes.
I get the feeling the daughter must be like her father. Kind of a rolling stone. She came in, went through Vicka’s closet for clothes, and left.
The sun finally burst though for the first time since arriving. Vicka and I both cheered. It had been rainy and over-caste since me arriving here.
Monday 7/30/07
I woke at 3am to find Vicka slipping out the door to sleep on the sofa. I can’t tell you how bad that made me feel. I remembered I still had the earplugs and mask that Delta gives everyone on the plane. I whipped them out, had her put them in, and went back to sleep.
I woke again at 9am. I could hear the shower going in the bathroom. I got up and checked my sugar level. It was down a few more points. It was 164 this time. The doctor told me if it got to 100 stop taking the medicine. The nurse said, 120 is perfect. So, maybe in a couple more days, I’ll be normal.
Anyway, Vicka walked in as I was reading the results. I asked if the plugs helped. A big smile came over her face. I knew we might have found something that works. We both were happy.
Vicka made us both a vegetable omelet for breakfast. I couldn’t help but think of how much healthier my diet is here. I broke out the translator to tell her so. I have been here for 4 days and had not had one greasy, fried, meal. And I haven’t wanted one.
The morning is so beautiful. The sun is out and there is a gentle breeze. The temperature must be around 70.
As we’re sitting down having breakfast, we discuss going to the bank to exchange US dollars for RU rubbles and buying more groceries. I also needed to get some deodorant and other items that I was afraid to the airline wouldn’t let me bring.
I hear keys in the lock again. (Doesn’t anyone knock around here?) My mind was racing wondering who it was this time. I thought maybe Dennis. We’re supposed to go out for pizza today and work on getting the Internet going. I would have it going if everything wasn’t in Russian.
But as it turns out, it’s Vicka’s mother. Mamma Rosa. I greeted her with a big hug and a pleased to meet you in Russian.
She may be an older lady but she not frail. She had the hug of a bear. She stretched out my arms and spoke to Vicka in Russian. Later, Vicka tells me she said, I was a big, strong man. From all indications, she approves.
It turns out the reason for Mamma Rosa’s visit was 2 fold. One, to meet me, and the other was to bring over a pail of freshly picked strawberries. They are delicious. We bid Rosa goodbye.
Off to the bank. I gave Vicka $ 500.00 to exchange. The bank would only accept 2 of the bills because they had marks or writing on them. I gave her a fresh 3 bills, but she shoot that bank the finger and said there was another one further down. I didn’t care.
We arrive at the second bank and they had a lower exchange for the $. She asked I wanted to go back to the other bank. Hell no! 10 Rubbles was not going to make or break me either way.
Now, to the supermarket to replenish the groceries. All of which, by the way, within walking distance….for a Russian.
Once again, I am the star of the show. I’m in one of the shops for maybe 5 minutes and the word must get around because I see a store worker going isle to isle obviously looking for something. When she finally sees me, I’m looking at her, so she pretends to look at something on the shelf. Lol I understand and don’t mind. These people are born, live, and die in this very area. I am not the norm. However, the last store, (what we would refer to a drug store) had a security guard or maybe he was the manager or something. He actually stood behind us until we paid for our things and left. That was a little uncomfortable.
So, we’re back at the apartment. I’ve changed into my comfortable loungewear and Vicka comes to me and say what a beautiful day it is. Can we go to the park? S**T! I wanted to kick back, but I agreed.
About 3pm Vicka and I left for the park. Or what she said was going to be the park. It turned out to be a jaunt around the trendy (if you can call it that) area of Arkhangelsk. There were some cool sites to take pictures of. It was the business area of the city. I could not help but say “finally” too myself.
So far I have seen most of Vicka’s life as far as what school she went too, college, and where she works. I came from a small town also, and haven’t ventured too far from home until now, but I can’t help be feel the people of Arkhangelsk have a very small range of living. But, there is nothing wrong with that.
After several hours of walking, I decided to suggest that we go home. Dennis would not be able to meet us for dinner. He had to work late.
Vicka called a taxi and as we were pulling away, I noticed 2 Africans on a bus. They were looking at me as if they had just seen the Pope riding a tricycle. I suppose I was looking at them also…lol
Ah, back home…it feels good to relax.
Well, I thought I could relax. After a really good meal, Vicka and I were sitting chatting. I’m amazed at how quick she is picking up the English language. Her English is a lot better than my Russian.
The doorbell rings and a friend of Dennis is at the door. He is here to try to get the internet working. Vicka and I sit in the kitchen for a bit longer and I hear the key in the door. This time it is Dennis. I had not seen him since he and his friend picked us up from the airport. I greeted him with Hi in Russian.
As I’m walking into the kitchen, the phone rings and it’s Zsusha. Zsusha is Vicka’s 24-year-old daughter. She and her boyfriend will be coming over. I’m really not sure why, but I guess I’ll find out.
Since Zsusha is coming I guess I had better get up and put on some decent clothes for all the guest. Son of a bitch! Oh well.
I just realized that while downtown, Vicka and I bought some books on the history of Arkhangelsk. I remembered the clerk giving a price of 4000 Rubbles, as it turns out, that’s about 169 bucks. One book was 150 bucks. And I can’t even read it. It’s in Russian. Oh well. It has some awesome pictures of Arkhangelsk landscape in it.
Tuesday 7/31/07
&nb sp; Success! With the aid of the earplugs, Vicka was able to get a full night’s sleep.
That takes a lot of worry from me.
Today was supposed to be the day that she and I stay in and do nothing. I didn’t plan on wearing anything more than cutoffs and a tee shirt. About 9am, I hear the phone ring. It’s Maria. She tells Vicka that she’s out of food and would like us all to go shopping. If it had been me, I would have declined, but Vicka says ok. So the women decide that we are going out around 2pm. They wanted to go down to the bazaar. When we arrived, and I saw what it was, I immediately thought Compton Swap Meet for some reason. It looks like a place where everyone comes to sell stuff.
We go into this high-end store. It looked like where the rich went to shop. Maria led us straight to the tourist section. Again, she and Maria try to get me to buy more Maruska Dolls. I ask her for the 10th time, “Where will I pack it?” I try to let them see me look un-interested, but it didn’t work. I see Maria talk Simon into buying a Vodka box. (Don’t ask)
Finally, I realize I’m not going to get out of there with out buying something. I noticed a couple of cheap wall plates hanging against the wall. I could see them hanging in my mom’s house so I got them. Then the landslide starts. Give me a couple of those fans, 3 of those key chains, and yes, that Maruska Doll Key chain. I told Vicka that was enough. She and Maria both seemed happy with that.
We leave the shop and head out to dive straight into the mist of the Bazaar. I tell them I’d like a nice scarf for my sister. What I ended up with was a beautiful white shawl. Vicka and Maria simply swooned over it so Simon and I had to get one. We leave there and start walking back in the direction of Home. I’m wondering if we are going to walk all the way back. These people love to walk it seems. After a mile or so, we turn into this shop down an ally. Inside was a fine cloth store and on the walls some very nice Shawls. I bought 4 of them. These are what I consider “real gifts”.
Finally I think the women are talking about going home. I hear the word home, and I know we are heading that way. All Vicka has to do is whip out here cell phone and call up a taxi. But no, in our rush out the door, she forgets her cell phone. Nobody else had one so that left us riding the bus again.
Because this is rush hour, every bus that came by was filled. Only standing room left.
Finally we had to choose one. Oh well. It’s quite the task try to hold all the cr
Tags: Tired
