Run! Desi! Run! or how I had my faith in the Russian postal system restored
Okay, so those two topics aren’t really related. This past week/weekend, I’ve been busy getting ready to move back to Moscow, trying to coordinate everything, wrap up in the archives, etc.
In the library I’ve been frantically making photocopies. Copy now, read later. I’m probably copying things I can find in another library in Russia or even in America, but you never know, and I didn’t take the time to check. One day, while copying most of a book, the lady at the copy center yelled for everyone to hear: “Girl! Do you know it costs 4 rubles a page?! This is going to cost you around 600 or 700 rubles!” “Yes, I know” I answered calmly. “Do you have enough money? Look in your wallet!” Yes, yes, here I am – ‘rich’, ‘extravagant’ American making photocopies! Look at me!
On Friday morning I went for a decent run and then I went to the library for the afternoon. I was meeting some graduate students for drinks later. We were supposed to meet at 5:30 at a certain place. I left the library at 4:45 to catch the Metro back into town. Went down the escalator, got on the train. Except the train didn’t go anywhere. A woman informed me that they had been sitting there for 20 minutes already. The idea of being trapped way underground was unappealing to me, so I left the metro and started to look for a bus, any bus, along with the 1000s of other people who needed to get somewhere. Finally got a bus that got me to within 5 blocks of where I needed to be, but I was already late. My phone, however wasn’t working so I couldn’t call and say “wait! I’m coming!” So I ran down Nevskii prospect. Even though I was 15 minutes late, they were still there. We went to a caf?, chit-chatted for a while, but I had to go meet Marina because we had comp tickets to a play at the puppet theater, near the hostel where Marina works. Well, I left the caf? late, so guess what – I ran to the theater, and barely made it in time. I definitely logged more than the 2 miles I ran in the morning!
On Saturday I had a few hours of Sasha-duty. Marina and co. are getting ready to privatize the apartment* and she had some meetings to go to, so I agreed to mind Sasha for awhile. I walked to Sasha’s school to meet her, we ate soup, watched a film, and then it was time to take her to dance class, in the center. We got ready and left the house in plenty of time, walked leisurely to the metro, and even bought ice cream on the way. Went down into the metro and sat on the train. At which point Sasha asks me “did you bring my leotard and shoes with you?” I think the look on my face said enough and Sasha grabbed my hand and we ran out of the car, just in time before the train left the station. We ran up the escalator, out of the metro and ran the 4 blocks back to the apartment. Ran up the stairs, grabbed the leotard (Sasha went to the bathroom) and ran back out. At this point we had 15 minutes until class started, and it would take us 10 minutes alone to get to the metro, let alone to our destination. So we started running in the other direction – toward the center – and I was looking for a bus or a van-line. None came. So I did something I never, ever, ever do, and I stuck out my hand and hailed a car. Not a cab, but just a regular old car driven by someone who wants to make an extra buck. A sky blue Mercedes pulled up, I tossed Sasha in the back and 150 rubles and 5 minutes later we were almost where we needed to be. After sprinting along the canal, I deposited Sasha at dance class with 30 seconds to spare. She later told me that the teacher was 10 minutes late. I guess I didn’t run enough the day before.
On Sunday we had a small farewell event for me. Alina’s grandmother, Elena Isaakievna came, and her sort-of-grandson, Nikita. As it was a lovely, sunny day, we all went for a walk for a few hours, and then came home and made home-made pel’meni. Pel’meni are meat or potato filled dumplings – the Russian equivalent of tortellini. Yum. Lets just say I ate too much (and drank a fair amount too).
After my positive experience at the post office the other day, I decided to send off another round of books, as well as my winter boots (because there was no WAY they were fitting in my bag this time around.) So two more brown-paper wrapped packages are on their way to Virginia….by boat. The woman taking care of the boots asked “air mail?” I said, “No, boat please.” “Umm, that takes a long time, you know?” “Yes, I know, they’re winter boots.”
