Life in Moscow

The corner before Kievskaya Station in our neighborhood.

Having a visitor in town, Ben who came for the World Cup, provided an opportunity to reflect a bit on what our lives in Moscow have become over that last month or so.  Human adaptability has set homo sapiens apart from other mammals, allowing the species to take up residence and thrive all over the globe despite dramatic variations in climate and vegetation.  These variations then contribute to the making and shaping of cultures and lifestyles that eventually characterize each distinct region of the world.  While there are certainly foundational similarities between Russian and American culture, the differences between Moscow and our home city in the US are many, some more obvious than others.  But once again, Fritz and I must thank that innate human adaptability that has allowed us to smoothly transition and temporarily establish ourselves on a different continent for this two-month period.  We were able to create a routine that worked well, allowing Fritz to maximize his time in the Russian archives (the real reason for our adventures here), and allowing me to engage in a meaningful, productive existence in a foreign country.  

When first walking Ben from the train station to our apartment, a route that is now so familiar we could do it in our sleep, we found ourselves explaining our neighborhood out loud for the first time.  This highlighted some of the little quirks about our temporary home and some of the aspects that have become an intricate part of our Moscow experience. 

The back side and entrance to our apartment.

We took Ben through the market across the street from our house.  On the way we passed our neighborhood homeless lady who we see daily and often hear in the mornings because she has a habit of sitting on the post outside our window while aggressively arguing with imaginary people.  Sometimes we see her standing next to parked cars, studying her reflection in the window while repetitively smoothing her oily hair to emphasize an already pronounced middle part.  As she passed us, we warned Ben to maintain a few feet of distance because two days earlier she had tried to spit on Fritz while crossing the street. 

Our apartment building viewed from the road.  Ours is the corner unite on the third floor with the glassed-in balcony.  In front is one of the few Soviet-era cars still left in Moscow.

As we approached out apartment building, we pointed to a tree outside our neighbors’ unit and told Ben that just yesterday the tree had been on fire after someone threw a smoldering bag of garbage (mostly likely caused by a lit cigarette) out the window, which got stuck in the branches two stories up.  This happened in the early evening, and I discovered it as I was arriving home after work at the pottery studio.  As I rounded the corner to the top of our street, I noticed the area in front of our building was filled with smoke.  It took a moment to find the source of the burning smell, but then our neighbors emerged on their balcony with buckets of water, which they then chucked into the tree to try to hit the dangling trash bag.  I ran up to our apartment where Fritz and I watched from our own balcony as the makeshift firefighting effort continued.  Our unit was too far away for us to be of any help, but we wanted to monitor the progress so we could gage whether or not an evacuation would be necessary.  While bucket after bucket was launched at the smoldering rubbish with only marginal success, a second tactic was employed by the residents of the unit below.  Three guys had rigged together two brooms and a mop using duct tape and were extending it toward the bag to try to knock it out of the tree and down to the ground.  Their joint efforts eventually paid off.  Deciding it was now safe to leave without taking all of our belongings with us, Fritz and I set out in search of dinner.

Another view of the entrance to our apartment and our courtyard.

Until articulating these two stories to Ben, neither our mentally unstable neighbor nor the tree-on-fire event had been topics we'd thought much about.  We considered both to be normal aspects of our little neighborhood five blocks from Kievskaya Station.  But spelling them out to Ben made me a bit more aware of some of the differences we have adjusted to since moving in.  I thought it might be interesting to provide a bit more of a look at what our lives look like here in Moscow using both words and pictures.  

Before I dive in though, I’d like to provide some additional context to understand the full spectrum of my feelings about coming to Moscow.  One year ago, Fritz enrolled in a 2-month language emersion program at Middlebury College in Vermont.  He told me he needed to learn Russian because his book required Soviet sources, which meant a significant portion of time spent in Russian archives.  He thought at least 2-3 months in Russia would be necessary, to which I thought, “Yikes!”  After living in Germany for a year, I considered myself a fairly adventurous person, but given the state of US-Russia relations, my desire to set up shop in Moscow for an extended period was pretty minimal.  I felt caught between a rock and a hard place.  Though there was never any question regarding my commitment to supporting my husband on his road to writing “The Best Cold War History Book Ever,” I struggled with the choice between being separated from Fritz for 3 months or swallowing my fear to live in Vladimir Putin's home town.  I stalled for a long time before I decided 3 months apart was far too long.  I was going to Moscow, so I might as well begin to shift my attitude and embrace the adventure ahead.  

Now, as our time is quickly coming to an end, I find myself longing for another month here.  No, Russia is nothing like home and there are certainly things that would make a long-term stay challenging, but after two months, I can honestly say that I love Moscow.  I love the routine that we have established over these past weeks.  I love taking the Metro.  I love the river that winds through the center of town.  I love trying to sound out signs written in the Cyrillic alphabet.  I love Georgian food.  I love Gorky Park.  And I love, love, LOVE working at my pottery studio.  I’m just not ready to leave.  But, alas, the time is drawing to a close.  At least I’ll have these photos and stories to remember what it meant to live in Moscow.

Cathedral of Christ the Savior

Walking along the Moscow River

I thought a map of the city might help to orient around some key landmarks.  It should be noted that Moscow is huge.  We live in a region that could be considered the “city center” but it still takes at least 45 minutes to walk from our house to the Kremlin and Red Square in the actual heart of the city.

This is only a portion of the city.

Fortunately, the subway system is absolutely wonderful – probably the cleanest, most beautiful public transportation system I have ever seen.  The walk from our house to Kievskaya station is 0.7 miles according to Google Maps, which takes us about 10 minutes.   

One of the underground Metro terminals.

Subway cars

It is also quite affordable compared to the DC Metro or the London Underground.  Money here has taken some getting used to.  Moscow is generally cheaper than the US, but the currency is very different.  One American dollar is about 62 Russian rubles.

Look!  We're rich!

... Or not.  1,450 rubles is only about $23.40.  Still, it goes pretty far.  We cook most of our meals at home and 1,450 rubles is usually plenty to cover groceries for a few days.  We are lucky to have a grocery store 2 blocks from our apartment.  It’s not the prettiest place and there are swankier markets a bit closer to the mall, but it does the job.

Our grocery store

The produce section

Juice and bread

The checkout counter

Deciphering food labels is usually pretty straightforward thanks to pictures on the packaging.  In the event of ambiguity (ie I had to look up “baking powder” and “flour” when I was trying to do some baking), smart phone translator apps make operating in a foreign language much more manageable.  The alcohol section was a bit funny.  Based on the last aisle of the grocery store (below), I think the stereotype of the Russian obsession with vodka is justly applied. 

That's a LOT of vodka, considering the grocery store only had eight aisles!

There are certain elements of Russian culture that I totally admire and think I might try to adopt when we return to the US.  The most important one is Tea Time.  I love the daily ritual of pausing around 3 or 4 in the afternoon for a tea break.  This is one of my favorite things about working in the pottery studio, and it is such a lovely opportunity for me to get to know the other artists who have invited me to share their space.  I’ve decided when I get back, I will be bringing a kettle and selection of tea to my studio in New Haven so I can continue this ritual.

The other thing about tea in Moscow is the variety.  A far more interesting selection is available here than in the States.  There is almost always a long list of fresh fruit teas that are just fantastic!  When I say "fresh fruit teas" I mean the establishment actually makes their own tea from actual fresh fruit that they muddle with fresh herbs in the hot water.  I’m usually a fan of raspberry tea here, which is made with fresh raspberries and enhanced with mint leaves and an orange slice or two.  This attention to freshness applies to the juice and lemonade selection as well.  As a person who generally avoids drinking alcoholic beverages, I was thrilled to see what appears to be standard offerings of truly delicious fresh juices in Russia.  I started taking pictures of my beverages.  I am definitely going to work on upping my homemade beverage selection when I get home.  Juice is so good!

Raspberry tea with lime and a mint leaf in a shop while editing photos.

Delicious lemonade with limes, mint, and apple slices.

The other element of Russian culture that I appreciate is the regular giving of flower bouquets.  There is a florist on nearly every block in Moscow, and it seems they all do quite well.  Admiring beautiful bouquets has become a standard part of my commute home from the studio every evening.  I love the Russian custom of bringing a bouquet to every dinner party, date, or even just a friendly gathering!

The various modes of transportation in Moscow are far more varied than any US city.  I’ve already mentioned the Metro, which is absolutely fabulous.  So fabulous, in fact, that having a car seems like a silly idea.  The traffic in Moscow is outrageous and the driving is even worse.  Fritz and I have taken an Uber several times, and each trip was terrifying.  Fortunately, it seems this city was built to accommodate non-driving options.  Walking is prevalent, though I’m sure this had something to do with the beautiful weather we have had in May and June.  Citizens of the city also seem fond of other wheeled alternatives to cars.  Bikes and skateboards are commonly used, as are scooters.  It is a common occurrence to see a man in a suite gliding to and from work on his scooter.  Some people invest in motorized scooters (not a motor bike, a standing scooter with a motor hooked up under the wheels), though most seem to favor the standard one-foot, kick-off style.  Roller blades are also extremely popular in the park.  It seems to be the preferred exercise choice, in fact, and many opt to rollerblade rather than jog.  Some rollerbladers practice fancy footwork skills in parks, gracefully weaving through lines of cone obstacles.

Scooter Lady

Rollerblading to Gorky Park

Skateboarders vs Bikers

Having lived in the city for over a month now, I have gotten a little better at sounding out the Cyrillic letters.  I'm always excited when I read something and realize it's an English word, just written using the Russian alphabet.  

McDonald's

For example, this says "McDonald's" which, by the way, is very popular in Russia.  McDonald's has a great reputation here, and I've been told that it is not uncommon for business lunches to be catered by McDonald's.  People get McDonald's delivered to their homes, which is a little funny given my earlier report on transportation in Moscow.  Food delivery workers often perform their jobs on bike or on foot, carting hot food in large box-shaped backpacks.

Fresh Market a few blocks from our house.

This one says "Fresh Market".  In Cyrillic the P makes an "R" sound, W makes a "Sh" sound and the O with a line through it (Phi for anyone who knows the Greek alphabet) makes an "F" sound.

The archive crew.

Although I haven't been to the archive where Fritz is doing all his research (I could get in trouble for going there on a tourist visa), I have been fortunate enough to meet a group of Fritz's English-speaking, scholarly colleagues who have banded together in Moscow.  They have organized a weekly gathering at a pub that tends to attract ex-pats.  Because there is relatively little talking in the archives, the Friday evening gatherings have offered this group an opportunity to catch up and swap stories about their respective experiences living in Russia.  

One thing is for certain, being a historian makes for an interesting life.  Most of the academics in this group have been in Russia for over 5 months and are therefore overflowing with comical and generally bazaar stories.  Being a historian is a very solitary profession in the first place, but the frequent need to do research in a foreign country takes that solitude to new heights.  Fritz is a bit unique in that we have been able to do all of his big research trips together.  Most of the academics we have met over the years are either single (it can be difficult to meet people when you are in this line of work), or they have to be separated from their partners when they are doing the archival research.  The fact that we are together has meant that Fritz always has a buddy with him on these trips, and it means that I, of course, end up in places that I never thought I'd experience.  Hello Moscow, Russia!

Gorky Park fountains

Our life in Moscow has been truly terrific.  As I stated at the start of this entry, I'm really not ready to leave.  But then, who could blame me.  We are here during the best time of year.  The weather has been beautiful.  I've found such a wonderful community of potters in the converted Electric factory (I will write a separate post completely dedicated to them coming soon).  And every weekend we take walks through Gorky Park, the best public park I have ever seen.  I could spend the whole day here just watching people.  There are activities going on everywhere.

Another view of the fountains in Gorky Park

The fountains are always a fun place to sit and watch people - some who have stripped down to their undies - run back and forth through the rows of blasted water.  Fritz and I have also spent our fair share of time watching small-sided soccer games, sand volleyball matches, and basketball games.  Just sitting on a park bench and observing the constant stream of people walking past is so interesting.  Our park sitting time has helped us confirm that the women in Moscow work really hard at looking their best.  In comparison, the men present themselves in a way one might expect when going to the park - blue jeans, sneakers, t-shirts - nothing special.  I'm flabbergasted by the outfits some ladies put on to go for a walk at Gorky: make-up with extra emphasis on the the eyebrows and lashes, tiiiight dresses, and 3-inch heals!  I don't know how far these ladies plan on walking, but stilettos aren't the logical strolling footwear in my mind.  Nevertheless, Fritz and I have sat and watched as snazzy lady after snazzy lady pass by employing their best runway walk down the asphalt path.  

When we aren't sitting on benches watching other people walk by, we walk around and look at people sitting on benches.  In addition to having massive outdoor beanbag chairs that are large enough to accommodate a family of 8, there are also reclining benches stationed around that park.  

Reclining benches overlooking a pond.

These coveted spots are always occupied, and I'm sure we'd have to hover over someone for an uncomfortable amount of time in order to claim a beanbag or reclined bench.  I did manage to sneak onto the corner of a beanbag once.  I just wanted to feel what it was like, so I adopted a "random, clueless, tourist girl" character for about 3 minutes and enthusiastically sat myself down on the corner of someone else's beanbag while Fritz took a picture on his cell phone from 50 yards away.  I just didn't think my Gorky experience would be complete if I didn't sit on a beanbag at least once.

Best burgers in Moscow.

When we aren't sitting or walking, we are often eating.  There are countless food vendors in the park, several of which sell burgers.  We have have determined the best burgers are sold right next to the fountains.  

Yum.

We have been here several times and have never been disappointed.  In addition to serving burgers, they also have beer and lemonade!

мороженое with the Gorky Park entrance gate in the background. 

And stopping at an ice cream cart is always a park highlight.  I leaned the Russian word for "ice cream" is morozhenoye (spelled мороженое with the Cyrillic alphabet).  I find myself chanting the word after spending a few hours in Gorky.  

Swing Dancing

One of my favorite things about Gorky is the dancing!  We have identified a few spots in the park where you can almost always find some form of dancing going on.  This large elevated platform has been the site of a swing dance party as well as an hour of choreographed middle-aged woman who synchronized their steps to your favorite 80s hits.  This included the Limbo, to which the ladies did not arch backwards to shimmy under a stick.  Fritz and I realized that even though most Russians claim they can't speak English, the Western hits still dominate the music scene.  Every shopping mall, restaurant, and bar plays American pop music.

Salsa Dancing

The best dancing experience was certainly salsa night.  There is a huge outdoor dance floor right on the river that Fritz and I went to one Saturday evening.  The dancing is next to a simple but terrific Vietnamese kitchen, so after having some grilled pork and vermicelli, we danced until dark!

Bridge with spectators at sunset

As the sun went down, we watched spectators congregate on top of the pedestrian bridge that overlooks the river.  What a perfect night.

Gorky Park view of the Moscow River

I know our lives are not normal and I'm guessing these archive adventures are not something we will be able to do together forever, but I have to say, I am really enjoying every minute!